#kingsman Merlin x reader

[specialagentlokitty]

Merlin (kingsman) x reader - you’re safe here

if you do still write for kingsman (i saw it on ur list but i havent seen it on your blog in a very long time) could you do a merlin x reader where reader has been hiding an @bvsive relationship from everyone, but one day shows up to his door with cvts and bruises everywhere??💟💟 - Anon💜

T/W: mentions of abusive relationship

Part of being a kingsman was to keep your personal and work life very separate from one another.

And when it came down to that, you were amazing at it, the two lives never intertwined with each other in any way, shape or form.

And perhaps that is what your downfall was as well.

What was supposed to be a loving relationship had turned into a hell on earth for you, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

You were a master at hiding everything, so nobody you worked with suspected a thing, and your partner hated you wouldn’t tell them anything about your work life.

They accused you of everything.

Cheating.

Stealing.

Lying.

Manipulation.

Whatever you could be accused off you were, even though it was the other way around.

And there was nothing you could do about it.

You wanted to fight back, but you were scared, and when it came down to it you couldn’t bring your hand to hit them like you could anybody else.

You were stuck in a world of fear and it was eating away at you slowly.

But it had never been so bad before, never had you feared for your life so much, been on the verge of collapsing in your own legs as you climbed out of your car.

You didn’t have anywhere else to go.

You didn’t know where to find anybody else.

And you were scared that you would be followed if you went to the hospital, and terrified what would happen if you went to the police.

Slowly closing your car door you walked over to the house and rang the bell, slumping yourself against the railing, wheezing for breath.

“Who is it?”

You looked up at the intercom, letting out a pained breath.

“P..please…” you whispered.

You weren’t even sure if he would’ve been able to hear it, but you couldn’t form anymore words.

You heard running down, and the door was thrown open.

Merlin immediately crouched next to you, holding a gun out as he looked around.

When he was sure it was clear he put it away and wrapped your arm around his shoulder.

“This is going to hurt.”

With that, he lifted you up and you held back a pained scream.

Merlin helped you inside and set you down in the sofa, locking the door as he began to rush round gathering everything he could find.

Coming back over, he sat down on chair in front of you, settling some bags of ice down.

He went to reach out and you flinched.

“I would never hurt you, you’re alright.” He said softly.

He slowly reached out again, moving your arms from your ribs.

“Can I?”

You shook your head.

“Alright, I just need to make sure they’re not broken.”

He placed his hands on your ribs, gently feeling and you winced.

“Bruised but that’s all.”

It was calming to hear him telling you what he was doing so you knew everything that was happening. There was no nasty surprises.

Your breathing was pained, and every time he reached out you would flinch.

It broke his heart to see you like this.

He knew you as one of the strongest agents, never had you been injured on a mission.

Now here you were sat on his sofa, bruises forming, covering in cuts, blood stained your clothing. You were in so much pain.

And there was nothing he could do to help you aside from tending to your injures, cleaning them, bandaging them, putting ice on them.

When he was done, he took a small breath.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

You weakly shook your head.

“Alright, I’ll be back in one moment.”

Merlin left, and he came back not long after.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

He helped you up, slowly walking up the stairs with you and took you to his room, letting you sit on the bed.

He covered you up, and sighed as he looked at you.

“Get some rest, we can talk in the morning when you’re ready.”

He went to leave and you stopped him.

“Do you want me to stay?”

You nodded.

He took the chair from his desk and brought it over, sitting next to the bed holding your hand while you laid down.

At first you didn’t sleep, but pain and exhaustion took over and you let sleep take over.

And Merlin sat there watching over you, he had already his laptop, and he was going through security footage from your building to figure out what went on.

He was going to figure this out.

Then whoever had dared to hurt you like this was going to pay dearly for what they had done to you.

But Merlin could only hope you could heal from this, and that you would let him protect you

[adarafaelbarba]

You know you're mine right?

“I know Hamish, don’t worry. But if I don’t flirt my way through here this whole evening will go no where”, you spoke softly, trying to make sure no one looks at you.

This whole operation would’ve been so much better if you’d gotten to go with you boyfriend. But that wouldn’t happen and you knew it.

Gods you hated these evenings. A bunch of old white men with loads of money to spend and a host, Arthur and Champ, wanting their fellow old white men to spend said money.

Usually they would tell you and the other women in the two firms to put on a cute little dress and your best smiles and flirt your way through the throng of people.

“I know love, if I could I’d keep you from going—“

“You could always send me on a mission right before the next event.”

“No. I don’t think I will. Not just because of one night. I’d miss you too much.”

That made you smile wide. He sure knew how to make you blush.

“Make it up to me later then.”

“Oh I plan on it.” You could practically hear the smirk on his lips at that. And you wanted nothing more than go to his office and make him do exactly what he had planned.

Tagging:

@meg-ro @xoxabs88xox @beatrice-san @meetmeatyourworst @rozalynfrozen @imaginelover88 @crazy4chickennuggets @peauxheaux @pepperbstark @wheresthesunshineblog_ @im-a-slut-for-this-man2 @chickensarentcheap @bulletproof-love-replies

Wanna be on the tag list? Fill out this form to be part of the team 🥰

[mannersmakethzine]

Thank you! and an update

I wanted to thank everyone that has filled out the interest check and/or shared the Tumblr post for the Manners Maketh zine! Based on those who have filled out the google form, we have made a few decisions and we would like to update everyone before applications open tomorrow!

Many of you have shown interest in contributing, and we want to thank all of you for that. Despite interest itself not being a lot at the moment, a large number of you want to contribute and that’s great to hear!

Here’s a highlight of the most often mentioned characters, who to no one’s surprise, are: Eggsy, Harry, and Merlin.

Many of you have shown interest in this being a charity zine! Here’s some of the charities that have been mentioned by those who have filled out the google form. We will be looking into each one and make a decision together with the contributors. Sadly, we cannot support each one, so please go check them out on your own as well!

The fact remains, though, that not everyone is able to afford donating to a charity, especially with the current state of the world and economy. So we’re looking into if we can make the (digital) zine itself free of charge, but still have a few extras (think digital merchandise) for those who are able to donate.

Because it is somewhat unclear how many people are actually interested in a physical zine, there will be a check-in later along the way to see whether those who know of the project would like one and if it’s viable to do so. Especially with it (now) being a charity zine.

Thank you for reading and all the support we’ve received so far!

[happy74827]

Talk To Me

[Eggsy Unwin x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: With your boyfriend sneaking out 24/7 and always returning with carefully concealed injuries, it's only natural to be concerned.

WC: 3033

Category: Slight Angst + Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

I watched Carry-On last night (10/10 so good), and it got me re-thinking about one of my favorite films. Kingsman supremacy 🙌

『••✎••』

You loved Eggsy. Dearly. Truly.

You loved him so much that sometimes it scared you. How fiercely your heart clung to his smile, how tenderly your hands always seemed to reach for his, how naturally your entire world had shifted around him without you even realizing it. He was yours—scruffy, sweet Eggsy Unwin—and you believed you knew him. At least, you thought you did.

But then, the nights started.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Everyone had their own struggles, and Eggsy never struck you as someone who’d open up easily about his. He’d always been the type to handle his own problems, to wear his hardships like armor rather than show them. But that was before the late-night disappearances, before the quiet footsteps across your floorboards, before you’d wake up in a cold bed at 3 a.m. to find him gone.

It didn’t happen all at once. It was gradual—so gradual you could almost convince yourself you were imagining it. One night turned into two. Two turned into a week. And before long, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The first time you tried to confront him, you did it gently. You’d asked him if everything was okay, masking your concern with casual curiosity. "You seem really tired lately, Eggsy. Is work being a pain?"

Eggsy had smiled, all teeth and dimples, and said, "Nah, luv. Just gotta lot on my plate, s’all."

You believed him because you wanted to.

But then there were the bruises.

The first one you noticed was along his jaw, faint and shadowed under the soft light of your kitchen. He’d winced when you kissed him there, just a tiny twitch of his lips, but enough to make you pull back. "You alright?" you’d asked.

Eggsy had waved you off. "Yeah, yeah, fine."

"Fine."

The word had felt too tight on his tongue, too forced. But you’d let it go because that’s what you did when someone you loved was hurting. You gave them space.

Except the bruises kept coming, each one a little harder to miss than the last. The faint cut above his brow, the stiffness in his shoulders when you hugged him, the way he’d flinch—just barely—when your fingers brushed against his ribs. And you noticed. Of course, you did. How could you not?

There was the other stuff, too. The sudden shift in his wardrobe. Gone were the trainers and bomber jackets, replaced with sharp suits and polished shoes. He’d started wearing glasses—ridiculous little round things that didn’t even have a prescription—and he carried himself differently now. Straighter. More serious. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the change. You did. Eggsy looked good in a suit, and you’d told him as much. But it was the why that lingered in the back of your mind.

Everything about him was changing, and yet you were still supposed to believe he was fine.

You weren’t stupid.

And so tonight, when you’d felt him slip out of bed yet again, something inside you had snapped. Enough was enough.

You stayed awake, feigning sleep as you listened to him shuffle around the room. You heard the soft clink of his belt buckle, the muted sound of a zipper, and then the quiet groan he let out as he bent to tie his shoes. He was trying to be quiet, but you could feel his movements, his tension, the exhaustion radiating off of him like smoke.

The front door closed behind him.

For a moment, you thought about following him. Your mind painted a dozen possibilities—none of them good—and the urge to know was almost overwhelming. But something held you back. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was the sick feeling that if you saw what Eggsy was hiding, you wouldn’t be able to unsee it.

So, instead, you stayed. You waited.

And you waited.

Hours slipped by, the quiet hum of the room punctuated only by the ticking of the clock and the occasional thump of your restless heartbeat. You sat in the darkness, curled up on the couch with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.

It was almost dawn when you heard it—the sound of keys fumbling at the door.

Your breath caught as the door swung open, and there he was. Eggsy. Exhausted, disheveled, and dragging himself inside like he’d just run a marathon. He tripped over the shoes you’d left by the door, letting out a hushed curse as he stumbled and caught himself on the wall. "For fuck’s sake…"

You watched him for a long moment, your heart twisting. His shoulders were slumped, his face pale under the bruises, and there was an air of defeat clinging to him that you’d never seen before.

Your hand hovered over the lamp beside you.

Click.

Light flooded the room.

Eggsy froze. His wide, tired eyes met yours, and for a second, neither of you said anything.

"…Where were you?"

Your voice came out steady—colder than you intended—but you didn’t care. You needed answers.

Eggsy straightened up, wincing slightly as he did, and ran a hand through his messy hair. "What’re you doin’ awake?"

"Where were you, Eggsy?" you repeated, softer this time.

He opened his mouth to answer, but you saw the hesitation in his eyes. That flicker of guilt, of indecision. And it hurt.

You watched him—really watched him—take in the situation, his gaze darting from you to the lamp and back again. He looked so tired, the dark circles under his eyes stark against the pale exhaustion in his face. His bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and for a fleeting moment, you thought he might lie to you.

He always did that when he was nervous, chewing his lip like he was trying to hold the words inside.

And then he sighed.

"Look, luv—"

"No." You cut him off, surprising even yourself with the sharpness in your voice. Your heart was pounding now, a steady thud in your chest, and you swallowed the knot rising in your throat. "Don’t 'look, love' me, Eggsy. I’ve given you space. I’ve ignored the bruises. I’ve let you—whatever this is—carry on without question. But not anymore."

Eggsy’s mouth closed. He shifted on his feet, his wince almost imperceptible, but you caught it. You always caught it.

"Are you hurt?" you asked, voice trembling slightly despite the resolve you tried to hold. Your eyes dropped to the faint, bloodied scrape on his knuckles and the stiff way he held his side. "Jesus, Eggsy…"

"I’m fine." The words came out fast—too fast—and though they were meant to be firm, they only sounded hollow.

You flinched like the word was a slap. "You’re not fine."

He sighed again, this time deeper, and rubbed a hand over his face. "It’s complicated."

"Complicated?" you echoed, your voice pitching with disbelief. "Complicated is when you forget an anniversary or don’t know how to split rent. This isn’t complicated, Eggsy—this is you sneaking out in the middle of the night and coming home bruised and battered, and I’m scared."

There it was. The confession you’d been holding back. The thing that had been gnawing at you for weeks, clawing at your chest every time he slipped away. Your voice broke slightly, the words tumbling out like a dam had burst, and Eggsy’s face softened in a way that almost broke you.

You could see the guilt then, raw and unguarded, etched into the lines of his expression. He took a cautious step forward, but you held up a hand, needing the space to breathe.

"Do you…" Your voice faltered. You didn’t want to say it—didn’t want to voice the fear that had whispered in your mind during the loneliest hours of those nights. “Do you not trust me, Eggsy? Is there something you can’t tell me?”

Eggsy’s head snapped up at that, his brow knitting as if you’d insulted him. "What? No. No, it’s not like that."

"Then what is it?" Your voice cracked, and for the first time since this all started, you felt your eyes sting with tears. "Because I’m running out of scenarios, Eggsy. I thought maybe… maybe it was someone else, maybe you’d stopped loving me. But then I’d see the bruises, and I’d hear you groaning in your sleep, and…" You trailed off, pressing a hand to your forehead. "I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when you’re falling apart right in front of me."

The room was silent save for your quiet, unsteady breaths. For a moment, you thought Eggsy wouldn’t answer, that he’d slip into that shell of his again and leave you stranded in this mess of unanswered questions.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he crossed the room in two quick strides, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you.

It wasn’t a soft kiss—not like the ones he’d give you after long days or lazy mornings. It was desperate and grounding, like he needed to make sure you were real and that you still loved him despite everything. You froze for half a second, caught off guard by the sudden warmth of his lips on yours before you melted into it. Your hands gripped his wrists, holding onto him like an anchor as your heart hammered against your ribcage.

When he finally pulled away, you stared at him, breathless and reeling.

"Eggsy—"

"I’m sorry," he muttered, his forehead resting gently against yours. "I didn’t… I didn’t mean to make you think that. Any of that." His voice was low and earnest, the accent softening as the words spilled out. "You’re the only good thing in my life, alright? The only thing that keeps me goin’. It ain’t you—it’s me. I’m just… I’m tryin’ to keep you safe."

"Safe?" Your brows furrowed as you leaned back to look at him. "Safe from what, Eggsy?"

He hesitated. You could see the war playing out in his eyes—the push and pull of wanting to tell you the truth but still trying to protect you from it. He was holding something back; you knew that much. Something big.

Finally, he exhaled slowly. "It’s work. The bruises, the nights—I can’t tell you everything, but you gotta trust me when I say I’m doin’ it for you. For us."

"Eggsy…"

His thumb brushed along your cheek, and you realized then that you were crying—just a little.

"You’re right," he admitted softly, the words heavy with guilt. "I shoulda told you somethin’. Not everythin’, but… somethin’. I just didn’t want you to worry, love. Didn’t want you to see this part o’ me." He smiled faintly, the corners of his lips tilting upward. "You deserve better than this mess."

You stared at him, the boy who had somehow become a man without you noticing. His rough edges were still there—still scrappy, still stubborn—but there was something more now, too. He carried weight on his shoulders, weight he hadn’t let you see until tonight.

"I don’t care about the mess," you whispered, your hands sliding down to hold his. "I care about you. And if you’re hurting, I want to know. I want to help."

Eggsy blinked at you like he wasn’t sure he deserved to hear that. Then he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly as if trying to shield you from the rest of the world.

"You’re mental, you know that?" he mumbled into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. "Too good for me, you are."

Eggsy was warm against you, his arms solid and grounding, but you couldn’t let yourself melt into it—not entirely. Not when you could still feel the lingering tremor in his body, the careful way he was holding you like he was afraid of falling apart completely if he let go.

So you didn’t let it slide. Not this time.

You pulled back slightly, enough to look at him, your hands sliding to rest against his chest. He avoided your eyes for a beat too long, gaze flicking toward the floor as if the answers to all of your questions were scattered across the floorboards.

"Eggsy," you said softly, forcing him to look at you. "You’re doing it again."

His brows furrowed slightly. "Doin’ what?"

"Avoiding." You swallowed hard, your voice gentle but firm. "You keep saying you’re trying to protect me, but from what? From you? From whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself into? I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with half-truths and cryptic excuses."

He didn’t answer. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a tight line as the silence stretched between you like a taut wire. You watched him, the Eggsy you knew—the one who laughed too loudly, who lit up rooms with his smile—hidden behind this new, heavier version of himself. A man weighed down by secrets you weren’t allowed to touch.

You felt your throat tighten. "If you’re in trouble, I need to know."

"I’m not—"

"Gary." You said his name softly, but with enough weight that he stopped, his shoulders sagging just a little under your gaze. You could see the walls going back up, the way his expression started to close off again, and your heart ached. This wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about digging into things he didn’t want to share. This was about him—the man you loved. The man standing in front of you with bruises and exhaustion, painting him in shades of worry and pain you didn’t recognize.

"I love you," you whispered, the words breaking through the quiet. His head snapped up, his eyes finally locking onto yours. "I love you, Eggsy. But this—" you gestured gently between the two of you "—this isn’t fair. You don’t get to shoulder all of this alone. Not when I’m right here."

You could see the cracks in his resolve then, the guilt splintering through his expression like fractures in glass. Eggsy exhaled, a heavy breath that deflated his entire posture, and he reached up to cup your cheek again, his thumb brushing faintly at the tears still lingering there.

"It ain’t trouble," he muttered after a long pause, his voice low and rough like gravel. "Not like you’re thinkin’. I ain’t into anythin’ shady, I swear."

"Then what is it?" you asked softly. "Please, Eggsy. I’m not leaving. I’m not running. I just need to know what’s doing this to you."

He hesitated again, clearly grappling with something you couldn’t see. For the briefest moment, you thought he might tell you—might rip off the Band-Aid and let you into whatever world he’d been keeping you out of. But then, as if on instinct, he sighed and shook his head, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before resting his own against it again.

"You don’t wanna know, luv," he murmured, voice so soft it nearly disappeared into the space between you. "I promise you don’t."

You stared at him, your heart twisting painfully. You could feel it now—the invisible door he was trying to close, to lock between you—and the worst part was, you knew he thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting you.

But all you felt was the sting of being shut out.

"This isn’t fair," you said again, your voice trembling slightly. "You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, Eggsy."

His lips parted slightly, and for once, he didn’t have a rebuttal. He just looked at you—really looked at you—as if weighing the woman in front of him against whatever dark reality he’d been hiding.

"I can handle it," you pressed, your voice steady this time. "Whatever it is, I can handle it. I can handle you."

Eggsy pulled back slightly, his hands slipping to your shoulders. There was a flicker of conflict in his eyes, and for the first time that night, you saw a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface. "It ain’t about you not bein’ strong enough," he said finally, his words slow and deliberate. "It’s about me not wantin’ you to see the worst parts of what I do."

"What you do?" you repeated carefully, and you saw him flinch—just barely—like he’d said too much.

"Eggsy, I don’t…"

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. "Jesus Christ, I’m shite at this."

Your eyes searched his. Part of you wanted to press further—to keep pushing until the dam broke—but the other part could see his exhaustion, the way he was leaning slightly against the counter like his legs were struggling to hold him up. He looked so tired. So defeated. And you hated it.

You let out a soft sigh, taking his hand and lacing your fingers through his.

He stiffened.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was a question lingering between you, the same one you knew he was struggling to answer.

Tell her.

Don't.

It felt like an eternity had passed when you finally said his name, squeezing his hand gently.

His gaze lifted to yours.

And you let it go.

You didn't push. You didn't demand. You didn't ask. Because this wasn't a fight, you were going to win.

He wasn't ready.

So, instead, you just said, "Promise me something."

"Yeah?"

You hesitated, the words feeling heavier on your tongue than they had any right to be. You swallowed the lump rising in your throat and whispered, "Promise me you’ll come home."

Eggsy stilled.

It wasn't much of a request—more of a desperate hope that this wasn't all leading to some unavoidable ending you weren't ready for. It was an offer of surrender. A silent, exhausted plea to put the pieces back together, to stitch up the cracks before they could break.

He studied you, his tired eyes roaming over the lines of your face as if he could read the question lingering there.

And then he pulled you into his arms, a hand cradling the back of your head. You felt the warmth of his embrace, the weight of his body against yours, and your arms wrapped around him as tightly as you could. For a second, you weren’t sure if he would answer. If he even could.

And then, in the softest voice you'd ever heard, he whispered, "Always."

"For you, always."

[renx01]

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.

[emotionally-damaged-carrot]

Eggsy Unwin x Male reader

New Recruits pt.1

I just thought of this when we had a power outage. I was planning to also make this a slow burn type shit? Idk if I'm good with that, so I will give it a shot. I tried to proof read but got bored half way, hehe sowwy.

Warning: none

Enjoy 🫰

"Fall out."

Merlin said as Y/n stood in the control room, feeling his whole body, his pockets, searching for that one missing object.

"You alright there, Excalibur?"

Merlin asked me as he entered the control room looking at him with a questioning look.

"I think I forgot something in their dorms."

"You can get it after the test."

"I need to get it now, Merlin."

Y/n exited the control room and opened the door to the dorms. Merlin was right behind.

"You can get your stuff after, Excalibur."

He crossed his arms as he stood in the doorway while Y/n walked around the dorm. The candidates giving me a questioning look.

"And who are you, you look too pretty to be in that suit. How about taking it off?"

Chatlie said, so he heard Merlin call him earlier. Y/n merely glanced at him as he continued searching.

"Back off, Charlie, or I will not interfere with the consequences of your actions."

Merlin warned.

"What's wrong with flirting with a cute boy?"

Charlie responded with a smirk

"Excalibur, hurry up so the tests continues smoothly pls."

Merlin called out to Y/n as he was on his elbows and knees looking under the beds and everything.

"Just a moment, I see it."

He reached out his hand under one of the beds and pulled out a piece of paper. He stood up and smiled at Merlin while waving the paper.

"I found it!"

Y/n exclaimed in joy as he walked towards the exit and leaving, Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Excalibur?"

Eggsy asked with an amused smile.

"He is the weapon of Arthur."

Merlin said as he left the room not before saying goodnight to the candidates.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

Eggsy looked at Roxxie for answers but she shrugged.

"Just get to bed, we have quite a day ahead of us."

Roxxie said as they went to their beds.

A few hours after they got to bed to sleep, the room began to fill with water.

*You lot get this shit already, please I am too lazy to write the whole thing 😭😭😭 nothing changed dw.*

"Good job, Charlie and Roxxie for firguring it out, if some of you are still clueless, if you manage to get a tube down the U of a toilet you have unlimited air."

Merling said as he looked at the candidates.

"However, you all failed."

Y/n said with a smirk as he crossed his arms.

"What do you mean?"

Charlie asked with an angry tone.

"Watch your tone, boy."

Y/n gave him a glare, his previous cheery mood now gone.

"The vital asset we are looking for in a kingsman, is teamwork. Look back inside and see if you can spot the reason for your failure."

Y/n said with a serious tone, the candidates looked back inside the dorm to see the body of a girl lying there lifeless, some let out gasps of surprise.

"Excalibur will lead you all to your actual residence while in here."

"Hey, I thought you said I would only observe? I'm not even meddling this time."

Y/n crossed his arms in protest.

"Yea, and you can observe whether they won't have trouble getting to their beds."

Merlin smiled at Y/n.

"Whatever, baldie."

Y/n ran out of the room laughing after saying it, while Merlin was about to hit him with the clipboard in his hands. Some of the candidate let out laughs while the others snickers.

"Follow him and he will lead you to your beds. Bloody childish."

Merlin said as he also left the room.

"Where would he be?"

Roxxie tried to ask Merlin but he already left and her voice slowly getting more silent. After waiting a few moments they heard some ruffling behind them and Y/n jumped into the room through the broken mirror.

"I heard a door, is he gone?"

Y/n asked as he hid behind the candidate and peeked out.

"He left."

Roxxie replied, confused.

"Now, about those beds, I actually have no clue where."

Y/n walked infront of them and stood there with a sheepish smile.

"I know a bed you can join me in, Love."

Charlie flirted, Y/n just gave him a disgusted look and motioned for them to follow him. Some of the candidates laughed.

———

"Right, now as you already know, teamwork is the most vital quality of a kingsman."

Merlin said.

"So, you lot are going pick a dog for the rest of your recuitment process. Go ahead."

Y/n continued.

"Eggsy, that is uhmmm.. nevermind."

Y/n spoke up slightly snickering after he saw Eggsy pick up the pug, with delight. He knew then that Eggsy was clueless.

"yea?"

Eggsy said confused.

"Continue."

Y/n hid behind Merlin who also had a ghost of a smile.

"Now, all of you run around the place 10 times with your companions, and you are not allowed to pick them up."

Merlin said as Y/n went down the stairs on to the grass.

"Excalibur will be observing and making sure nothing bad happens or no one cheats."

Merlin went inside the building.

"Chop chop then, get your packs beside me and get to running."

Y/n pulled out his phone after saying it and began scrolling on social media. The candidates did as their told, grabbing a pack and began to run.

"Who are you, exactly?"

Eggsy asked as he stood beside Y/n.

"Get to running before I give you a reason to run."

Y/n responded not even glancing at him.

"Can't you answer a simple question?"

"Can't you do a simple command?"

Y/n now stood up, 'he's just as tall as Harry.'

Eggsy thought to himself.

"Start running."

Y/n leaned down to come face to face with Eggsy. After few seconds, Y/n stood back straight and let out a way too high pitched whistle.

"Are you trying to defean me to run?"

"Look behind you."

Eggsy looked behind him just in time to see two massive dogs running towards them. He immediately picked up his pug and hid behind Y/n.

"Pick, you run of your own free will or you run for your life?"

Y/n asked as he stepped aside, the two dogs sat infront of them looking intensely as Eggsy.

"Former, thank you."

He said as he began to run.

"No carrying your dog or these two will have a snack."

Y/n shouted, as Y/n was about to sit on the grass the massive dogs jumped on him, nearly suffocating him and their fur was just too much and they kept licking his face. He let out a few screams of their names and soon he managed to stand up and began to run away fromt he dogs. But he was ultimately unsuccessful and the dogs tackled him and began licking his face and wagging their tails.

As this was happening the candidates that were near Y/n or heard his screams stopped to look at what was happening. They were laughing at his expense, after a few moments the dogs got bored and laid down of him, one on his chest and the other on his belly, bothe crosswise.

"Fucking hell, you lot should be running."

Y/n tried to scold them but he was having difficulty breathing with the dogs on him.

"Can someone help? I may be strong but if you have these two ass hats on you, your will to live becomes non-existent."

He managed to say even tho he was minutes away from passing out. The candidates' laughs were slowly dying down and they tried to help Y/n.

"Jesus, what the fuck are these dogs made of?"

Charlie said as the dogs refused to get up, and i stead of biting them, the dogs just let them to whatever.

"Usually they are very curious and try to explore new people, not in that way."

Y/n managed to free his arm under the dog and began tried to get his upper body up. He failed, horribly.

"Fuck sake."

He said out of breath as the candidates were tired and just sat beside him petting the dogs.

"What the fuck, stop petting them and help me."

Y/n said angrily, Eggsy began to pet Y/n's hair.

"Are you taking the piss, Unwin?"

Roxxie let out a snort as she saw.

"Excalibur, What the bloody hell is happening?"

Harry shouted from the stairs and began to make his way towards them.

"Dogs."

Y/n managed to shout out.

"(You decide on the dog names), come on, get off him."

Harry said as he tried to get the dogs off Y/n, they immediately got off him and began licking Harry's face.

"Fucking finally."

Y/n said as he sat up and took deep breaths.

"Hurry up, Merlin needs to have word with them."

Harry got up with the dogs standing beside him as he motioned to the candidates.

"You heard the man, fuck off."

Y/n laid back down on the grass.

"You're not off the hook for petting me instead, Unwin."

Y/n shouted and Harry let out an amused chuckle.

"I missed a lot, must've been fun?"

Harry sat down beside Y/n as one of the dogs went away and the other laid down beside Harry and rested it's head on his lap and he started petting it.

"I need to have words with that boy of yours, Hart."

"And you will."

.

[muiitoloko]

Hii! I just saw that your asks are open, and that you write for Kingsman. Yesterday I discovered the two Kingsman movies and I watched them both, and now I'm obsessed with both Harry and Merlin.

I wanted to ask you for a Merlin or Harry fic (whichever you want) of angst and the grovelling trope. Like, maybe he has a terrible day and the reader tries to confort him, but he ends up snapping at her and telling her some real hurtful things and so he has to grovel *a lot* to earn her forgiveness or something like that :)

If you don't want to write it or you're too busy I completely understand :)

Also, if you do write it, please tag me, I don't want to miss it for the world <3

Title: The Price of Pride

Summary: Harry's pride and stubbornness drive a wedge between him and Gawain, leading to a heated sparring match that becomes a battleground for their unresolved feelings.

Pairing: Harry Hart × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Jealousy.

Author's Notes: Hii! @leylovestaytay and @shamelesstrekkie13 😊 First of all, welcome to the Kingsman obsession club—Harry and Merlin are just too irresistible, aren’t they? Your request has me grinning because, oh boy, who doesn’t love a good groveling trope? I can totally imagine Harry or Merlin having to do some serious damage control after snapping at the reader. I’m definitely up for writing this. Thanks for the awesome idea, and stay tuned! 💖

First and Second part here.

Also read on Ao3

Harry’s hands trembled with barely contained rage as he stormed into the dimly lit safehouse, his usually impeccable composure shattered by the events of the day. The mission had been a disaster from start to finish, and the humiliation of failing a mission—a task that had always come so naturally to him—was like a knife to the heart. But the worst part, the part that made his blood boil, was Chester, the current Arthur, who had the audacity to make fun of him, to belittle him in front of the others.

And to add insult to injury, the one person who had saved his ass on that mission, who had pulled him back from the brink of failure, was the same person now standing in front of him, trying to offer him comfort—Agent Gawain. You.

You watched Harry from across the room, your heart aching as you saw the torment etched across his usually stoic face. You knew how much pride he took in his work, how much it meant to him to be the best, to maintain the perfect image of a Kingsman. And today, that image had been shattered. You wanted to help him, to console him, but you could see the storm brewing behind his eyes, the way his jaw clenched and his fists curled at his sides.

"Harry," you said softly, taking a tentative step toward him, your voice filled with concern. "It wasn’t your fault. The mission… it was unpredictable. You did everything you could—"

"Don’t," Harry snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. His brown eyes were dark, filled with a fury you had never seen before, and it made you stop in your tracks, your heart skipping a beat. "Don’t try to console me, Gawain. You have no idea what it’s like to fail like this. To be humiliated in front of the entire organization, to be mocked by Chester of all people."

You flinched at the venom in his words, the way he spat out Chester’s name like it was poison. "Harry, I’m just trying to help—"

"Help?" Harry let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and grating. He took a step toward you, his presence overwhelming as he loomed over you, his height and intensity making you feel small, insignificant. "You want to help me, do you? Is that why you saved my sorry ass on the mission? To play the hero, to swoop in and save Galahad like some knight in shining armor?"

You shook your head, your chest tightening with the weight of his anger, his words cutting deeper than you could have ever anticipated. "No, Harry, that’s not it at all. I just… I didn’t want you to get hurt."

"Didn’t want me to get hurt?" Harry repeated, his voice dripping with mockery. "Is that really what this is about, Gawain? Or is it because of that little crush you’ve been nursing for me? Did you think saving me would make me finally notice you, that it would make me see you as something more than just another agent?"

You felt your heart drop at his words, the sting of his mockery hitting you like a physical blow. You had never been able to hide your feelings for Harry, your admiration for him that had grown into something much deeper, much more complicated. But hearing him throw it back in your face, using it as a weapon against you, was something you hadn’t been prepared for.

"Harry, please," you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to keep your composure, even as your vision blurred with unshed tears. "That’s not what this is about. I care about you, yes, but I would have done the same for any of my fellow agents. You know that."

Harry’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a sneer as he took another step closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "Care about me? Is that what you call it? Do you know what I think, Gawain? I think you’re just a pathetic little schoolgirl, clinging to some fantasy of what we could be, when the reality is that you’re nothing more than a distraction."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of you. You had always known that your feelings for Harry were one-sided, that he would never see you in the same way, but hearing him say it out loud, in such a cruel, dismissive way, was almost too much to bear.

"You think that by saving me, by trying to console me now, you can somehow make yourself more than what you are?" Harry continued, his voice cold and cutting as he advanced on you, his presence overwhelming. "You’re delusional, Gawain. I don’t need your pity, your concern, or your so-called care. What I need is for you to stay the hell out of my way."

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. "I’m not trying to get in your way, Harry," you whispered, your voice trembling with the effort it took to keep it steady. "I just want to help you. I want to be there for you."

"Be there for me?" Harry’s laugh was harsh, almost cruel, as he looked down at you, his brown eyes filled with disdain. "You’re not there for me, Gawain. You’re nothing more than a distraction, a hindrance. Your feelings for me, your pathetic little crush, are nothing but a burden that I’ve had to carry. And you know what? I’m tired of it. I’m tired of you."

The finality of his words hit you like a slap to the face, the coldness in his voice making it clear that he meant every word. You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces, the weight of his rejection, his anger, almost too much to bear.

Harry’s gaze bore into you, his eyes dark and unforgiving as he took one last step toward you, his voice dropping to a low, menacing whisper. "You think I don’t know what you want, Gawain? You think I haven’t seen the way you look at me, the way your eyes linger on me, the way you practically beg for my attention? You’re nothing but a desperate little girl, clinging to a fantasy that will never, ever come true."

You could feel the tears streaming down your face now, hot and unchecked, as you looked up at him, your heart breaking with every word he spoke. You had never felt so small, so insignificant, so utterly worthless.

"And you know what the worst part is?" Harry continued, his voice low and filled with contempt as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You actually thought you had a chance. You thought that saving me, that being there for me, would make me see you differently. But let me make one thing perfectly clear, Gawain—I will never, ever feel the same way about you. You’re just another agent, nothing more."

You felt your knees buckle under the weight of his words, your body trembling as you tried to hold yourself together, to keep from falling apart completely. But it was no use. The pain was too much, the anguish too overwhelming.

Harry stepped back, his expression cold and impassive as he looked down at you, his voice devoid of any warmth, any compassion. "Now get out of my sight, Gawain. And don’t ever try to console me again."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, shattered and broken, the pieces of your heart scattered at your feet. You watched him go, your vision blurred with tears, your body trembling with the effort it took to keep from collapsing.

You had always known that Harry was a man of control, a man who prided himself on his stoicism, his ability to remain calm and composed in any situation. But today, that control had slipped, and you had seen a side of him that you had never seen before—a side that was cruel, cutting, and utterly devastating.

And as you stood there, alone and broken, you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever be able to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, or if you would be forever haunted by the memory of Harry’s words, the coldness in his eyes, the finality of his rejection.

The days following Harry’s cruel words were some of the hardest you had ever endured. You did as he asked, staying out of his way, not even greeting him when the two of you passed side by side in the corridors. You didn’t look at him during the weekly meetings, where all the agents gathered to deal with Arthur. You interacted with everyone except Harry, and when you had to address him, you treated him as Galahad, with a cold, distant professionalism that cut deeper than any insult.

Harry noticed the change immediately. It was as if a light had been extinguished. Your jokes, your infectious laughter, your kind words—you still shared them with everyone else, but never with him. To you, he was no longer Harry, your mentor, your friend, the man you had admired and cared for. He was just Galahad, a title and nothing more.

At first, Harry tried to tell himself that this was what he wanted. That it was better this way, that you were just a distraction he could do without. But as the days passed, he found himself missing the sound of your voice, the way you used to tease him, the way you would light up any room you entered. The absence of your warmth, your light, left a void that he couldn’t ignore, no matter how much he tried.

It didn’t help that Merlin had begun to notice the tension between you and Harry. Merlin was nothing if not observant, and it didn’t take long for him to piece together that something was wrong. He saw the way you avoided Harry’s gaze, the way you stiffened whenever he entered a room, the way you now treated him with a cold formality that was so unlike you.

One afternoon, after a particularly tense meeting where you had barely acknowledged Harry’s presence, Merlin decided it was time to confront him. He found Harry in the training room, where he was taking out his frustrations on a punching bag, his movements sharp and aggressive, each punch landing with a force that betrayed the turmoil inside him.

“Harry,” Merlin called out, his voice steady but laced with concern as he approached. Harry didn’t stop, didn’t even look up, his focus entirely on the bag in front of him. But Merlin wasn’t one to be ignored.

“Harry!” Merlin’s voice was firmer this time, and finally, Harry stopped, his chest heaving with exertion as he turned to face his old friend.

“What is it, Merlin?” Harry’s tone was clipped, his expression hard as he grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow.

Merlin crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze unwavering as he studied Harry. “Something’s going on between you and Gawain. What the hell happened?”

Harry’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing at the mention of your name. “Nothing that concerns you, Merlin.”

“Bollocks,” Merlin shot back, not missing a beat. “It concerns all of us when two of our best agents can’t even look at each other, let alone work together. I’ve known you for too long, Harry. You don’t just snap at people like that for no reason. What did you do?"

Harry turned away, his shoulders tense as he tried to brush off the conversation. “It’s nothing. Just leave it alone.”

But Merlin wasn’t having it. He stepped closer, his voice lowering as he pressed on. “Did you hurt her, Harry? Did you push her away?”

Harry’s frustration flared as Merlin’s words struck a nerve. The accusation, the implication that he had done something wrong, only added to the boiling anger that had been simmering within him since that disastrous mission. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he stared at Merlin, his mind racing with the injustice of it all.

“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” Harry snapped, his voice laced with bitterness. “Why not Gawain? Why am I the one to blame here?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow, his expression unyielding as he met Harry’s gaze. “Because we both know that Gawain would never willingly hurt you, Harry. The girl worships the ground you walk on. She hangs on your every word, looks at you like you hung the stars. Hell, some of the other agents have even gotten a bit jealous of the way she treats you, the attention you receive. And you—”

“I didn’t ask for any of that,” Harry interrupted, his tone defensive as he turned away, trying to escape the weight of Merlin’s words. But the truth of them clung to him, gnawing at the edges of his conscience. He knew how you looked at him, the admiration in your eyes, the way you would brighten whenever he entered a room. It had been both flattering and overwhelming, but he had always tried to maintain a professional distance, to keep things strictly business between the two of you.

But now, as Merlin’s words sank in, he realized just how much he had come to rely on that admiration, on the warmth and light you brought into his life. And now that it was gone, the absence of it left him feeling hollow, like something vital had been stripped away.

Merlin stepped closer, his voice dropping to a gentler tone as he pressed on. “Harry, what did you say to her? Whatever it was, it broke her. She’s not the same. She barely looks at you, barely acknowledges you. You’ve hurt her deeply, and I can see it’s eating away at you too. So, what did you do?”

Harry’s jaw clenched, the memories of that night in the safehouse flooding back—the anger, the frustration, the venom he had unleashed on you in a moment of weakness. He had said things he didn’t mean, used your feelings against you in the cruelest way possible, all because he couldn’t handle his own emotions, his own failure.

But now, you were paying the price for his mistakes, and it tore him apart.

“I… I was angry,” Harry admitted, his voice thick with regret as he finally turned to face Merlin again, the anguish evident in his eyes. “I said things I shouldn’t have, things I didn’t mean. I pushed her away, Merlin. I broke her.”

Merlin’s expression softened, a flicker of sympathy crossing his features as he placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Then you need to fix it, Harry. You need to make this right.”

“How?” Harry’s voice cracked with the weight of his guilt, his brown eyes filled with a desperation that Merlin hadn’t seen in him before. “She won’t even look at me now, won’t acknowledge that I exist. She’s gone cold, Merlin. And I deserve it. But I don’t know how to reach her, how to make her see that I—”

“That you what?” Merlin prompted gently, his gaze steady as he watched his old friend struggle with the words.

Harry swallowed hard, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. “That I care about her. That I miss her. Damn it, Merlin, I miss her so much it hurts.”

Merlin nodded slowly, his eyes filled with understanding. “Then you need to tell her that, Harry. You need to show her that you’re willing to crawl back, to earn her forgiveness. Because right now, she doesn’t think you care. And if you don’t do something soon, she might not give you the chance to prove otherwise.”

Harry’s heart sank at the truth of Merlin’s words. He had pushed you away, shattered the trust and admiration you had held for him, and now he was faced with the impossible task of mending what he had broken. The thought of you, the way you used to joke and laugh, your infectious smile that had always brightened his day, now replaced with cold indifference—it was unbearable.

And yet, you had every right to treat him that way. After all, he had been the one to throw your feelings back in your face, to reduce you to nothing more than a distraction. The weight of his actions pressed down on him, suffocating him with guilt and regret.

For days, he tried to find the courage to approach you, to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness. But every time he saw you—sitting quietly in the briefing room, your eyes avoiding his, your smile reserved for everyone but him—the words would die in his throat. He had hurt you too deeply, and now, it seemed, you had built a wall between you, one that he didn’t know how to break through.

And so, he began to retreat, letting the shame and guilt consume him, until one day, when he found himself standing outside your door, his heart pounding in his chest. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say a thousand times, but as he stood there, the words seemed inadequate, insufficient to convey the depth of his regret, his longing to make things right.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked softly, his heart in his throat as he waited for you to answer. When the door finally opened, and you stood there, looking up at him with that same cold, distant expression that had haunted him for weeks, his resolve nearly crumbled.

But he couldn’t back down now. He had to try.

“Gawain,” Harry began, his voice rough with emotion as he looked into your eyes, hoping—praying—that he could find a way to reach you. “I need to talk to you. Please… can we talk?”

You looked at Harry for a moment, your expression unreadable as you stood in the doorway, your hand resting on the handle of your suitcase. The sight of him standing there, his posture slightly slumped, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and desperation, stirred something deep within you, but you quickly squashed it down, refusing to let him see how much his presence affected you.

"Make it quick, Galahad," you said, your voice cool, almost detached, as you turned back into the room, leaving the door open behind you. You didn’t wait for him to follow you, moving to the small desk in the corner of the office and beginning to gather the last of your things. The room was a fraction of the size of Harry’s own office in the Kingsman mansion, but it had been yours—a space where you could work, think, and be alone when you needed to.

Harry entered the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He stood awkwardly near the doorway, his eyes scanning the space as if seeing it for the first time. It wasn’t the first time he had been in your office, but it was the first time he had really paid attention to the place—the small, tidy desk, the bookshelf lined with mission files and personal mementos, the single chair tucked neatly into the corner. It was all so much like you—efficient, organized, but with a touch of warmth that had always drawn him in, even if he hadn’t realized it before.

You continued to sort through the papers on your desk, your movements precise and deliberate, as if you were trying to keep yourself busy, to avoid looking at him. "What do you want, Galahad?" you asked, your tone flat, as if you were asking about the weather.

Harry hesitated, the words he had rehearsed in his mind suddenly feeling inadequate, but he knew he couldn’t back down now. He had to make this right, even if you wouldn’t let him.

"I wanted to apologize," Harry said finally, his voice soft, almost tentative, as he took a step closer. He tried to keep his tone measured, his words carefully chosen, but the anguish in his heart made it hard to maintain the stoic façade he usually wore so effortlessly. "For what I said… that day. I was angry—furious, really—and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that. You didn’t deserve it, Gawain. None of it."

You didn’t look up, your hands continuing to move through the papers, straightening them, placing them in neat piles, as if you hadn’t heard him at all. Your silence, your indifference, was like a knife twisting in his chest, but he pressed on, desperate to make you understand.

"I know I hurt you," Harry continued, his voice trembling slightly as he forced himself to keep going. "And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Gawain. I never should have said those things, and I—"

"It’s fine, Galahad," you interrupted, your tone clipped, as you set down the papers and finally turned to face him. There was no warmth in your eyes, no trace of the affection that had once been there, and it made Harry’s heart ache. "It’s in the past. Let’s just… leave it there."

Harry felt his chest tighten at your words, at the cold, distant way you dismissed him, as if everything he had just said meant nothing. He had expected anger, or maybe even tears, but not this—this cold indifference that made him feel like he was talking to a stranger.

"But it’s not fine," Harry said, his voice growing more urgent, more desperate, as he took another step toward you. "It’s not in the past, Gawain. I see the way you look at me now—the way you don’t look at me. You’ve shut me out, and I can’t… I can’t bear it. I miss you. I miss your jokes, your smile, the way you light up every room you enter. I miss the way you used to look at me, with that admiration in your eyes. I miss you, Gawain. And I’m sorry—"

"Enough," you cut him off again, your voice firm as you held up a hand to stop him. You didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to let him back in, didn’t want to let yourself feel the pain that his words were stirring up inside you. You had spent weeks building up these walls, weeks trying to protect yourself from the hurt he had caused, and you weren’t going to let him tear them down now.

"It’s done, Harry," you said, your voice steady but devoid of emotion as you looked him in the eye. "You said what you needed to say, and I’ve heard it. But I’m not going to pretend that things can just go back to the way they were. You made it very clear that I’m nothing more than a distraction to you, and I’ve accepted that. So let’s just move on."

Harry looked at the ground, his mind swirling with emotions he couldn't quite name. He had come here to make amends, to try and salvage what he could of your relationship, but now, faced with your cold indifference, he found himself at a loss. The warmth, the light that had once radiated from you, was gone, replaced by a wall of icy detachment that he didn't know how to penetrate. It was as if the person who had always been by his side, supporting him with your jokes and infectious laughter, had disappeared, leaving only a hollow shell in their place.

For a moment, Harry considered pressing further, considered trying one last time to break through the barrier you had put up between you. But the words caught in his throat, the weight of your rejection pressing down on him like a physical force. He couldn't bear the thought of humiliating himself further, of begging for forgiveness that you seemed unwilling to give.

So, he did what he always did when faced with emotions too complex to handle—he suppressed them. With a deep breath, Harry forced his features into a mask of indifference, schooling his expression into the stoic, unflappable demeanor that had become his trademark. He had tried to make things right, and if you couldn't accept his apology, then that was your problem, not his.

"Very well," Harry said, his voice cool, detached, as he looked up at you with an expression that betrayed none of the turmoil he felt inside. "I hope this... unfortunate conflict won't affect our ability to work together in the future."

You snorted at his words, a sound that was equal parts derision and disbelief. The sound grated on Harry's nerves, but he kept his composure, refusing to let you see how much it affected him. If this was how you wanted to play it, then so be it.

Without another word, Harry turned on his heel and walked toward the door, his steps measured and controlled. But as he reached the doorway, something inside him snapped, a flicker of the anger and frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface. He pushed the door closed behind him with more force than he intended, the sharp click of the latch echoing through the room.

Fine, he thought bitterly as he stalked down the hallway, his footsteps echoing in the silence. If you wanted to shut him out, then he would let you. He wouldn't humiliate himself further by groveling at your feet, by begging for something that clearly wasn't there anymore. He had his pride, after all, and he wasn't about to let it be trampled on by someone who had decided he was nothing more than a distraction.

He had tried to apologize, had swallowed his pride and admitted his faults. If you couldn't see past your own hurt to forgive him, then perhaps you weren't as mature as he had once thought. Perhaps you were still nothing more than a child, clinging to a fantasy that would never come true.

Harry's thoughts grew darker as he made his way through the corridors of the mansion, his mind racing with a mix of frustration and regret. He couldn't shake the image of your cold, distant eyes, the way you had dismissed him as if he meant nothing. It stung, more than he cared to admit, but he refused to let it show. He was Harry Hart, after all—Agent Galahad. He had faced down enemies far more dangerous than this, had endured pain far worse than the sting of a broken heart. He would survive this, just as he had survived everything else.

The next morning, Harry arrived at the training facility, his usual impeccable composure firmly in place. The early hours were always reserved for physical training, and today was no different. The large, open space was already buzzing with activity as agents honed their skills under Merlin’s watchful eye.

Harry forced himself to focus on the task at hand, determined to push the previous day’s events out of his mind. He needed to regain control, to reassert his dominance as one of the top agents in Kingsman. But as soon as he walked into the training area, his eyes found you, and all his resolve crumbled.

You were sparring with James, the current Lancelot, and to Harry’s irritation, the two of you seemed to be enjoying yourselves far too much. James was a notorious flirt, a man who had always tried his luck with the female agents, but until now, you had never reciprocated. Yet here you were, laughing at something he said, your eyes bright with amusement as you effortlessly blocked one of his punches.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the scene unfold, his chest tightening with an emotion he didn’t want to acknowledge. He had no right to feel this way—not after what he had said to you, not after pushing you away so cruelly. But the sight of James flirting with you, and worse, the way you seemed to be responding to it, sent a wave of jealousy crashing through him.

He tried to focus on his own training, to throw himself into the exercises with the same intensity he usually did, but his eyes kept drifting back to you and James. Every time he saw you smile at him, every time he heard you laugh at one of his stupid jokes, Harry felt his blood pressure rise.

James was relentless, his flirting becoming more blatant with each passing minute. At one point, he leaned in close, his hand brushing against your arm as he whispered something in your ear that made you laugh. The sound, once so sweet to Harry’s ears, now grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

Harry’s fists clenched as he watched James step back, a cocky grin on his face as he squared off against you again. The two of you moved in a graceful, almost choreographed dance, your bodies in perfect sync as you sparred. But it wasn’t the skillful movements or the precision of your strikes that caught Harry’s attention—it was the way you were looking at James, the way your eyes sparkled with something more than just amusement.

The irritation that had been simmering beneath the surface all morning finally bubbled over. Harry’s punches became more aggressive, his movements sharp and jerky as he tried to burn off the anger coursing through him. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to acknowledge the jealousy that was eating away at him, but he couldn’t deny the truth.

He was angry. Angry at James for flirting with you, angry at you for reciprocating, but most of all, angry at himself for pushing you away in the first place. This was his fault—he had driven you to this, driven you into the arms of another man. And now, he was paying the price.

Harry knew he had no right to feel this way, knew that he had forfeited any claim to you the moment he had spoken those cruel words. But that didn’t stop the jealousy from gnawing at him, from making his blood boil every time he saw you smile at James.

"Nice form, Galahad," Merlin’s voice cut through Harry’s thoughts, jolting him back to reality. The older man was standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest as he observed the training session. His sharp eyes took in every detail, missing nothing.

Harry nodded curtly, forcing himself to focus. "Thank you, Merlin," he replied, his voice clipped as he delivered another precise punch to the training dummy. But his mind wasn’t on his training—it was on you, and the way you were still laughing with James.

Merlin’s gaze followed Harry’s line of sight, and he raised an eyebrow as he noticed the interaction between you and Lancelot. A knowing look passed over his face, and he let out a quiet sigh. "You’ve got work to do, Harry," he said quietly, his voice laced with sympathy. "She’s not going to forgive you easily. You’ll have to crawl a lot to earn her trust back."

Harry attacked the training dummy with renewed aggression, his fists slamming into the padded target with a force that was almost reckless. He barely heard Merlin’s sigh of exasperation as he muttered to himself, his words laced with bitterness. “I’m done, Merlin. I apologized last night. I did what I could. If she wants to ignore me, so be it. I’m not chasing after her anymore.”

Merlin shook his head, clearly irritated by Harry’s stubbornness. “You’re acting like a damn teenager, Harry,” he muttered, crossing his arms as he watched his old friend take out his frustration on the inanimate target. “You care about her, and she cares about you. But you’ve got to stop being so bloody proud and actually talk to her, not just throw apologies at her feet and expect her to come running.”

Harry didn’t respond, his focus on the training dummy, his knuckles turning white as he continued to land blow after blow. The truth in Merlin’s words stung, but he was too angry, too frustrated to admit it. He had tried—he had swallowed his pride, bared his soul, and all he got in return was cold indifference. What more was he supposed to do?

Suddenly, a sound drew their attention, and both men turned to see you and James in the midst of what appeared to be a playful tussle. James was lying flat on the mat, a wide grin on his face, while you straddled him, your hands pinning his wrists to the ground. The sight made Harry’s stomach twist with an emotion he didn’t want to acknowledge—jealousy, burning and raw.

James, never one to miss an opportunity, chuckled up at you, his voice low and teasing. “I’ve always loved a woman who knows how to take control,” he said, a playful gleam in his eye. His words earned a laugh from you, the sound light and genuine, and you rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you released his wrists and helped him to his feet.

“Is that so, Lancelot?” you quipped, a teasing smile on your lips. “You might want to be careful with that kind of talk. You never know when someone might take you seriously.”

James flashed you a grin, clearly enjoying the banter. “With you, Gawain, I’d gladly take my chances.”

Harry scoffed under his breath, turning his back on the scene, his eyes narrowing as he resumed his assault on the training dummy. “Isn’t James a little too old for you?” he muttered to himself, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He landed a particularly vicious punch, the force of it making the dummy sway. “For the love of God…”

Merlin, still standing nearby, couldn’t hide the frustration in his voice as he observed Harry’s childish behavior. “You’re really going to stand there and sulk while she’s right there, laughing and having a good time? Maybe if you stopped being so bloody stubborn, you’d realize that she’s still the same woman you’ve always admired—she’s just hurting.”

Harry’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond, focusing instead on the rhythmic pounding of his fists against the dummy. He couldn’t let go of the anger, the bitterness that clung to him like a second skin. He had tried to make amends, and you had brushed him off. What was he supposed to do—grovel?

Across the room, James glanced over at Harry, his expression thoughtful as he caught the tension in his old friend’s posture. He knew Harry well enough to recognize when he was struggling with something, and he also knew that this tension between Harry and you wasn’t doing anyone any favors.

James leaned in closer to you, his voice low and conspiratorial. “You know, if you really want to get under Harry’s skin, you should keep doing exactly what you’re doing.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what exactly am I doing, Lancelot?”

James smirked, glancing over at Harry’s back, which was still turned to the both of you. “You’re driving him absolutely mad. I think he’s seconds away from ripping that dummy to shreds.”

You chuckled, though there was a hint of sadness in your eyes. “I’m not trying to drive him mad, James. I’m just… I’m tired of feeling like I’m chasing after something that’s never going to happen.”

James softened at your words, his teasing demeanor shifting to something more serious. “Gawain, Harry’s a stubborn bastard, we both know that. But he cares about you. He just doesn’t know how to show it, especially when he’s hurt you the way he has.”

You sighed, glancing over at Harry’s back, your expression conflicted. “I don’t know, James. It’s just… it’s been hard, you know? I thought we had something, and then he just—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head as you tried to push the painful memories aside.

James placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Give him time. He’s not the best at dealing with his emotions, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching. He cares, Gawain. He just needs to pull his head out of his arse long enough to admit it.”

You gave him a small, grateful smile, but the sadness in your eyes remained. “Thanks, James. But I’m not holding my breath.”

As you turned back to your training, Merlin approached Harry, who was still pounding away at the dummy with unrelenting force. “You know,” Merlin said, his tone mild but pointed, “if you keep pretending you don’t care, you’re going to lose her. And judging by the way you’re acting, I’d say that’s the last thing you want.”

Harry paused, his fists hovering in mid-air as Merlin’s words sank in. He glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of you and James, still chatting and laughing together, and a wave of frustration and helplessness washed over him. Merlin was right, of course. He was acting like a fool, letting his pride and anger cloud his judgment. But admitting that—admitting that he had been wrong, that he needed you—wasn’t something Harry was used to. He had built his life on control, on maintaining a calm, collected façade, and now that it was slipping, he didn’t know how to handle it.

“Maybe she’s better off without me,” Harry muttered, more to himself than to Merlin. “I’ve already caused her enough pain.”

Merlin let out a long, exasperated sigh. “You’ve both caused each other pain, Harry. But that doesn’t mean it’s over. You just need to stop being so damn stubborn and talk to her. Really talk to her.”

Harry didn’t respond, his gaze drifting back to the training dummy, but his mind was elsewhere—on you, on the way you had smiled at James, on the way his words had made you laugh. The thought of you moving on, of finding happiness with someone else, sent a fresh stab of jealousy through him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you deserved better. Better than a man who had pushed you away, better than someone who had let his pride get in the way of something real.

But as he watched you from across the room, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if it was too late—if he had already lost you to the easy charm of someone like James, someone who could make you laugh without the baggage that Harry carried.

And as he turned back to the training dummy, his fists clenched at his sides, Harry couldn’t help but curse himself for being so blind.

After James finished his workout, he gave you a warm smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel. "Good work today, Gawain," he said, his tone light but sincere. "If you ever get tired of Galahad’s grumpiness, you know where to find me." He winked, his flirtatious nature coming through even in his goodbyes.

You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge. "I’ll keep that in mind, Lancelot. See you around." With that, James headed toward the showers, leaving you alone in the training room, your mind still spinning from the morning’s events.

You turned back to your equipment, trying to focus on packing up, but you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was; the air seemed to shift when Harry was near, and the tension between you was almost palpable. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever was coming.

Harry wasted no time in approaching you, trying to appear casual and nonchalant, but the set of his shoulders and the intensity in his eyes betrayed him. He was nervous, though he would never admit it. "Gawain," he began, his voice smooth but with an undercurrent of something deeper. "Mind if we train together for a bit? I could use the workout, and it’s been a while since we’ve sparred."

You hesitated, your first instinct was to refuse. After everything that had happened, you weren’t sure you were ready to spend time alone with him, not when the wounds were still so fresh. But another part of you, the part that knew you couldn’t ignore Harry forever, reminded you that this was bound to happen eventually. The two of you were partners, after all, and sooner or later, you’d have to learn how to work together again.

With a slight nod, you agreed. "Sure, Galahad. Let’s do it." Your voice was calm, but you couldn’t hide the slight tremor in it, nor the way your heart raced at the prospect of being so close to him again.

Harry’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place—relief, perhaps, or maybe just a hint of the old warmth that used to be there before everything had gone so wrong. "Great," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "Let’s start with some hand-to-hand."

You both moved to the center of the mat, assuming your stances. There was a moment of hesitation, a brief pause where neither of you moved, as if you were both waiting for the other to make the first move, not just in the sparring match but in the fragile reconciliation that lay just beneath the surface.

Then, as if by mutual agreement, you both lunged at the same time. The first few exchanges were cautious, testing the waters, feeling out each other’s rhythm. But as the sparring session continued, the tension began to melt away, replaced by the familiar push and pull of two well-matched partners.

It was almost easy to fall back into the rhythm, to let muscle memory take over, and for a while, it felt like old times. Harry’s movements were precise, controlled, but there was a fire in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in weeks. He was pushing you, challenging you, and you met him move for move, refusing to back down.

But there was something different, too—a simmering undercurrent of tension that hadn’t been there before. Every brush of his hand against yours, every time he managed to pin you, every time you escaped his grasp, it all felt charged, electric, like there was something more beneath the surface that neither of you was quite ready to acknowledge.

At one point, Harry managed to get you into a hold, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close against his chest. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck, the hard lines of his body pressing into yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. His grip on you was firm, but not painful, and the closeness, the intimacy of the moment, made your breath catch in your throat.

"Not bad," Harry murmured in your ear, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. "But you’ll have to do better than that if you want to take me down."

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips, the sound breathless and a little shaky. "I’m just getting started," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but the way your heart was pounding made it difficult.

With a sudden burst of energy, you twisted in his grip, using his own momentum against him to break free. Harry grunted in surprise, but he recovered quickly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he adjusted his stance. "Impressive," he said, his tone both teasing and admiring. "You’ve definitely gotten stronger."

You shrugged, trying to play it off, but the compliment sent a warmth through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. "I’ve had a good teacher," you replied, the words slipping out before you could stop them. The moment they left your mouth, you felt a pang of regret, worried that you had said too much, revealed too much.

Harry’s eyes darkened, the playful glint replaced by something more serious, more intense. "I’m glad to hear that," he said quietly, his gaze locking onto yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that small space, connected by something neither of you fully understood.

The sparring match continued, but the mood had shifted. The movements were more fluid now, more synchronized, as if the two of you had fallen into a rhythm that was all your own. There was still the push and pull, the challenge of trying to outmaneuver each other, but there was also something else—a closeness, an intimacy that neither of you had been willing to acknowledge before.

At one point, you managed to get the upper hand, pinning Harry to the mat, your knees on either side of his hips as you held him down. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, and for a moment, neither of you moved, caught in the tension that hung heavy in the air.

"You’ve got me," Harry murmured, his voice low and rough, the words sending a shiver down your spine. "But the question is, what are you going to do with me?"

The double meaning in his words wasn’t lost on you, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks, your heart racing as you tried to figure out how to respond. But before you could say anything, Harry shifted beneath you, using his strength to flip you onto your back, reversing the position so that he was the one pinning you.

His body was pressed against yours, his hands on either side of your head, his face inches from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, could see the way his chest heaved with each breath, and the closeness, the intimacy of the moment, was almost overwhelming.

"I’ve got you now," Harry said, his voice a low, dangerous whisper, his brown eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. "What are you going to do about it, Gawain?"

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at him, your mind racing with a thousand different thoughts, none of which made any sense. There was a part of you that wanted to push him away, to put distance between you, to protect yourself from the confusion, the hurt that still lingered from everything that had happened.

But there was another part of you, a part that you had been trying to ignore for weeks, that wanted nothing more than to close the gap between you, to give in to the tension that had been building between you for so long. You could see it in his eyes, the way he was looking at you, like he was waiting for something, like he wanted to see what you would do next.

Your breathing quickened, your pulse racing as you considered your options. You could push him away, keep things professional, pretend that nothing had changed. Or you could do something reckless, something that could change everything between you.

As you lay there, pinned beneath Harry, the heat of his body pressing into yours, the weight of his gaze holding you in place, a surge of emotions flooded through you—desire, confusion, and something else, something darker. The closeness between you was almost suffocating, the intensity of the moment making it hard to think clearly. For a brief second, you considered giving in, letting yourself get lost in the moment, in the way Harry was looking at you, like you were the only person in the world.

But then, as if a switch had been flipped, the memory of his cruel words, the way he had mocked your feelings, throwing them back in your face like they meant nothing, came rushing back. The pain, the humiliation, the anger—it all hit you like a tidal wave, dousing the spark of desire that had ignited within you.

Suddenly, the weight of Harry’s body wasn’t comforting—it was suffocating. The intensity of his gaze wasn’t exciting—it was oppressive. The closeness between you wasn’t something to savor—it was something to escape.

With a sharp push, you shoved Harry back, forcing him off of you. The movement was so sudden, so unexpected, that Harry nearly lost his balance, his eyes widening in surprise as he scrambled to regain his footing. The look in his eyes was one of shock, confusion, and maybe even a touch of hurt, but you didn’t care. The anger, the resentment that had been simmering beneath the surface since that day in the safehouse had finally boiled over, and you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

"You win, Galahad," you said, your voice cold, distant, as you pushed yourself up off the mat. The words were sharp, cutting, meant to put distance between you, to remind him that this was just a training exercise, that whatever had happened between you before meant nothing now. "Thank you for the training."

The formal tone in your voice, the way you addressed him by his title rather than his name, made it clear that you were done—done with whatever this was, done with him. You weren’t going to let him hurt you again, weren’t going to let him use your feelings against you.

Harry watched you in silence, his expression unreadable, but you could see the tension in his posture, the way his fists clenched at his sides, as if he was holding back something—words, emotions, you weren’t sure. But you didn’t care. You couldn’t let yourself care.

Without another word, you turned and walked over to where your bottle of water sat on a nearby bench. You grabbed it, taking a long drink, letting the cool liquid soothe the fire in your chest, the anger that still burned hotly within you. You didn’t look back at Harry, didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing the hurt, the frustration that still lingered in your eyes.

When you finally turned around, bottle in hand, Harry was still standing there, his brown eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. But you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, detached, as if he were just another agent, just another colleague.

"Goodbye, Galahad," you said, your voice cool and professional as you nodded at him, the formal tone making it clear that this was the end of the conversation. Then, without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked out of the training room, your steps measured and controlled, your heart pounding in your chest.

Harry stood there, watching you go, the tension in his body palpable, the regret and frustration clear in his eyes. He knew he had messed up—knew that he had hurt you, driven you away, and now, he was paying the price. He had tried to make things right, tried to bridge the gap between you, but it was clear that he had a long way to go before you would even consider forgiving him.

As the door closed behind you, Harry let out a low, frustrated growl, his fists clenching at his sides. He had underestimated just how deeply he had hurt you, how much damage his words had done. And now, he was left standing there, alone, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a physical burden.

He knew he had a long road ahead of him if he ever wanted to earn your forgiveness, if he ever wanted to see that light, that warmth, in your eyes again. And as he stood there, his heart heavy with regret, he realized that he would have to work harder than he ever had before.

Because losing you—truly losing you—was something he couldn’t bear.

[bullet-prooflove]

Hii! I want to try this again :) so, I read your prompt lists, and the one who got my attention was from The Tortured Poets Department prompt list, number 28 (At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on) with Merlin (he's not on your list but I believe you said that it'd be a refreshing change to write him, but if not then this ask would be for Harry) :))

Again, if you don't want to write it or feel uncomfortable or whatever, I completely understand :)

Have a nice day! <3

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @fangirling-alert @presidentdangdang @bitchglitterdreamer

Companion piece to:

Umbrella - Hamish walks you home on a rainy night.

Rainy Nights (NSFW) - Companion piece to Umbrella - The night doesn't end when you get to the doorstep.

Compliment - Hamish tries to teach you how to take a compliment.

Honeypot - Hamish is forced to listen as you seduce another man.

Far From Disappointing - Hamish tells you a story from his past.

Dreams - Hamish thinks about what could have been.

Letters - Hamish finds a letter in your desk addressed to him.

Handwritten - Companion piece to Letters - Hamish decides to write his own letter.

This Life... - For a moment there was more to the life you lead.

It’s in the middle of a quiet restaurant that Hamish takes the silver ring off your middle finger and places it on your wedding one. His thumb trails over it lovingly as his eyes raise up to meet yours.

“Wouldn’t it be fun to pretend for a minute?” He says and your heart aches because he has no idea how badly you want that, how you want to be the woman he comes home to, the one that loves him, that bears his children.

If the two of you had normal jobs, normal lives you’d already be his wife, you’d have already started a family and that’s why this hurts so much because it’s a fantasy, a dream that can never be.

“Best not.” You say, pulling your hand away. “It’s hope like that that get people like us killed.”

He tilts his head away from you, trying to hide the emotion he feels rising up in his chest. This profession has taken so much from the two of you, families, friends, the child you conceived together.

How much? he asks himself, how much can you keep sacrificing?

The only thing he has left is you and he knows that the day will come soon where he gets that knock on the door or that phone call, the one that tells him he’s lost you too.

“What if we didn’t do this anymore?” He says quietly, capturing your hand once more in his. The ring glints in the illumination from the overhead light. “What if we just disappear, get married, raise our children somewhere safe?”

“You would do that?” You ask him, your fingers entwining with his. “You’d give up life as a Kingsman?”

Hamish looks down on the silver band on your finger, he thinks of the years you could have together, the life you could build. He wants that with you, he wants everything  with you.

“Yes.” He says, meeting your gaze. “If it means we get to have a future together, I’d give it up in a heartbeat.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[multipotentialitepisces]

On Duty

Merlin x f!Reader (Kingsman)

When Merlin and Gawain get sent to share a hotel room by Harry, they are forced to realise their deep-seated feelings for one another.

Only one bed, coworkers, some meddling by the other Kingsmen, comfort, love confession, fluffy domesticity, f!reader (only uses of she/her, no genitalia descriptions) Not canon accurate! (Merlin’s death never happens in TGC, the nightmare is only nightmare!)

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of nightmares (losing Merlin).

A/N: This is my first ever fanfic! Hardly any proofreading and very much self indulgent so apologies if it doesn’t truly represent Merlin! x

‘Again?’

The newly appointed Arthur, Harry, had just revealed that Agent Gawain and Merlin were expected to play happy families and share a hotel room once again.

'Yes Merlin, we need you two on surveillance for this mission, and with Gawain training as a second Quartermaster it would do her well to share with you again to be available 24/7, just incase things go awry.'

'Harry you know how I feel about this. I'll do it, but it's not fair on me or Gawain.'

Storming from the room, Merlin headed for his office, searching for something a bit stronger than an English breakfast tea, sick of having to share rooms, and more importantly, beds.

'Gawain, I need you and Merlin to check in as these two.' Harry said, passing you two facsimile passports and a stack of documents, containing information on your aliases.

'You know, Merlin's right. I'm okay with surveillance missions and working from a hotel but I don't understand why we always get shoved together.' Sighing, you plead for Harry to stop putting you with the man you'd developed quite a hefty crush on within your time as a Kingsman. 'Anyway that's besides the point, what actually is this mission?'

Harry explained the mission, nothing special, and you and Merlin were simply there to watch over the building, keeping your agents up to date on any outside threats. That made your most pressing issue the fact that you'd be cooped up inside a hotel room and sharing a bed with the man who'd ran from the room upon finding that out. Not ideal.

'At least make sure you put us in a nice room this time Harry. With a big bed. That motel from a few months ago was basically a cesspit, no wonder Merlin's done a runner.'

At this, Eggsy laughed, remembering the state of the single bed and muddy water you had to live in with Merlin for three nights after visiting the Statesman.

'I assure you, the hotel will be quite suitable, it overlooks the mission's venue. One of the best in London. Now can you go and collect my Quartermaster please, Gawain?' Harry said, getting up from his chair at the head of the table in the meeting room, as you left in search of your boss.

'I bloody well hope this works, Harry. Merlin looked like he wanted to quit on the spot' said Eggsy. 'I know you want them together but I'm not sure Merlin's as close to realising his feelings as Gawain is.'

'It'll work Eggsy,' Roxy, joining the conversation, 'I think he's just less clear with his feelings than Gawain; remember he's been in the business of playing the cold and unemotional agent a lot longer than she has.'

‘I hope you two are right. I’m sick of watching them gaze with heart eyes across the room at each other,’ muttered Eggsy, almost gagging at the memory.

Sat at his desk, nursing a glass of his strongest scotch, Merlin pondered how long he'd be able to cope with having Gawain in a bed that was not his own. She was so close, and yet so far away, and he'd been dealing with his feelings for such a long time, he felt it was almost like Harry was deliberately torturing him.

After Eggsy's wedding, Kingsman agents were almost encouraged to have a romantic partner. Especially now that Harry was at the helm and realised how important it was to have connections after his dealing with Valentine, Merlin knew that his feelings for Gawain were not in the way of his job, but he still felt that he was unable to engage in a relationship with her. Ruining the relationship they'd developed over the past years, growing ever closer, Merlin would rather leave it as it was than destroy something so good.

Harry's meddling made that very difficult, however.

'Merlin? God, there you are. I've been looking for you all over, thought you'd left after your reaction to Harry's mission.' Gawain arrived to his office, out of breath and looking almost nauseous. 'Harry gave me these' the passports of you and your husband, and a love story for the ages to go with it. Merlin could've thrown up there and then, but seeing you walk into his office after looking for him so diligently just made his heart swell with love.

Skimming the documents and then throwing them on his desk, Merlin removed his glasses and scrubbed his hand over his eyes. 'Do you still have our rings from last time?' he asked you, as you produced them from your trouser pocket, passing him the gold band, and showing him your own wedding and engagement rings. 'Yep, same as last time.' you laughed.

'We're here to check in. Mr and Mrs Miller' Merlin spoke, smiling at the man behind the front desk in the lobby of easily the most beautiful (and expensive) hotel you'd ever been in. 'Right this way Sir, Madam' said the bellboy as he walked towards the elevators, with Merlin on his tail, all of your luggage in his grasp.

Harry hadn't lied about the room either. A large room on the corner with floor to ceiling windows, draped in velvet curtains, boasting a gorgeous view of London's skyline. The bed was huge and covered in plush cushions, facing a modern shiny white bathroom. The whole room was decorated like a stately home, with vintage furniture and a clawfoot tub, it was right up your alley, and Merlin in his classic jumper and immaculately tailored trousers and oxfords, he looked at home in the room.

Placing down your bags, Merlin began setting up your respective laptops and tech equipment on the desk facing the window. 'I'll take the first shower' you said, heading for the bathroom with your personal belongings.

Letting the hot water wash over you was so soothing, especially with the thought of sleeping in the same bed with the man you were half in love with for the next few nights depending on how Harry wished to call the shots. It’s not that you and Merlin hadn’t slept in the same bed before, but you’d never felt this way about him, and he had never seemed this mad about it before. You hoped he was alright, and that it was just the stresses of the job, but a little niggle told you it was something to do with it being you he had to share the bed with.

Stepping out of the shower and drying yourself off with a plush towel, you dug through the overnight bag you’d brought for your skincare and pyjamas, as it was already 7pm by the time you’d checked in, and you had things to look over before you went to bed. Though no amount of digging could help when you realised you’d forgotten to bring any pyjamas at all.

‘Shit. Shit!’ you swore, realising you’d have to ask your dear Quartermaster if he had a spare shirt you could borrow to sleep in.

‘Everything alright in there, Gawain?’ you heard Merlin ask from beyond the door.

‘Mhm, just forgot a pyjama top’ you said as you cracked the door open and peered into the room, to find Merlin sat on the edge of the bed playing with his tablet. ‘do you have anything I can borrow? I completely forgot to pack anything.’

Getting up from his perch and making his way across to the dark wood dresser next to the desk he pulls out a large t-shirt, one that is clearly well loved by its faded colour and graphics. Merlin moves to hand it to you through the crack you’d made in the bathroom door, ‘Aye, here y’are, I don’t have any pants you can borrow but this should be big enough for you.’

‘Thank you Merlin. Seriously, you’re a life saver’ you beam through the door, as he turns and retakes his place on the foot of the bed. Retreating back into the bathroom you do your skincare and brush your hair, put on some panties and finally Merlin’s top. He’s not a large man but he’s certainly tall, and the t-shirt falls to below your bum, fitting you nicely as you spin in front of the mirror to see how it looks from the back. ‘Hm. Not too bad.’ you muse.

As you exit the bathroom carrying your overnight bag and trying to blow hair out of your face, you fail to notice Merlin’s eyes glance above his glasses from his tablet and rake up and down your form. He gulps at the sight of you in one of his favourite t-shirts, and how nicely it shows off your long legs, how well the colour compliments your skin, hair and eyes. He swiftly sits up, coughs ‘I’m taking a shower, then we can go over our aliases.’ His Scottish twang becoming more noticeable as he thickly swallows again, struggling to take his eyes off you.

You’re lounging on the bed, flicking through the documents regarding your aliases and looking at the facsimile passports laid out on the soft duvet in front of you, as Merlin exits the bathroom with a puff of steam. Only a towel slung low around his waist and water dripping from his shoulders, he wanders over to the chest of drawers and pulls out his pyjama bottoms, moving back to the bathroom. Seemingly in a world of his own, you get an eyeful of his toned torso, and attempt to dispel the less than holy thoughts that pop into your mind at light speed at the sight of him dripping wet. This was going to be a long night.

Merlin returns from the bathroom looking a lot less wet but no less naked, replacing the low slung hotel towel with a tartan pair of pyjama pants. ‘What happened to being fully dressed when we shared a room, eh, Merlin?’ you question, jokingly mentioning the rules the two of you had come up with years before when you’d first been forced into a hotel room together.

‘Might I remind you that you’re wearing nothing but my t-shirt right now, Gawain.’ Merlin smirked, looking at you sideways from his seated position on the other side of the huge bed, wrestling his socks on.

‘I guess you’re right, Sorry’ you smiled, remembering that he wasn’t in the best of moods. Reverting your attention back to the pile of papers strewn across the bed in front of you, ‘so, Mr Miller, what do you do?’ you asked Merlin as he scooted back to join you sitting against the headboard.

‘I work in finance and you’re my journalist wife. We met 6 years ago at a mutual friend’s wedding in the Bahamas and are staying here for a short weekend holiday to escape the January blues.’ Merlin muttered, clearly having memorised this better than you. ‘You’re Victoria Miller and I’m Archy, we’re filthy rich and very much in love, blah blah blah…’ he trails off after flipping a few of the papers over.

‘Archy.’ you laugh, ‘that’s so not you, Merlin.’

‘I know.’ he smiles ‘Not Scottish enough for me. Victoria is quite fitting for you I think, though.’

‘Huh, why?’

‘It’s classy, timeless.’ His eyes dart from the papers to yours, ‘Fits you well.’

‘Well, thanks; I prefer my real name though.’

‘Anyway, why does Arthur need us to be ‘married?’’ he makes little air quotations on either side of his face, which is scrunched up in confusion, ‘we’re not even in the field, just cooped up in this place. At least there’s a balcony.’

Jumping off the bed and ruffling all the papers in your wake, you run to Merlin’s side of the bed and stare at him quizzically. ‘There’s a balcony?!’ in both elation and confusion you look at him through his glasses, gazing into his light hazel eyes. ‘You kept that one quiet, Merlin. Where is it?’

‘We’ve got a whole ‘nother room, Gawain.’ He manoeuvres himself off the bed, swinging his long legs off and leading you through a set of tall doors into a living room with a kitchenette, and then left through a set of glass doors out into the cold January air of London. ‘Not sure how you missed the massive double doors on my side of the bed’ he questions, looking down at you as you place your forearms on the cool metal fence of the balcony, taking a long, deep breath in.

You begin to shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, as Merlin places himself next to you, leaning on the fence. His shoulder presses into yours and his goosebump riddled skin makes you shiver more. ‘Sorry’ he smiles, apologetic, turning to look at you. You smile back and close your eyes, breathing in deeply again, allowing him to take a good look at your face.

The winter has diminished your tan, but he can see specks of fading freckles. Hair tickles your face and your nose and cheeks are rosy from the cold winter night, and covered in goosebumps. Merlin can’t help but smile at the peaceful look on your face, despite being on duty and knowing that you have a long and stressful few days ahead of you. His eyes trail down to your plush lips and he forces himself to look away before you open your eyes, pushing himself off the fence and standing up to his full height, ‘c’mon it’s warmer in here, besides we need to go to bed,’ coaxing you back inside.

Shaking off the cold as you make your way into the living room you didn’t know you had, wandering into the kitchenette to browse the tea selection. Merlin closes and locks the balcony doors, rubbing his hands up and down his arms and following you over to make himself a cup.

‘Aren’t you freezing, no shirt and all.’ You ask him, flicking on the kettle and picking out a lavender tea blend for sleep, holding it up for Merlin to see when you sense him behind you.

‘Aye.’ A man of few words tonight, it seems. He moves closer to you, almost so that your back is flush with his chest, and places his palms on your cheeks, making you squeal with the cold as he laughs, moving back as you jump away.

‘Merlin! You bastard!’ You leap to the side to get his freezing hands off your cheeks, the flash of anger fading as you turn around and see him heartily laughing, hands in his pockets and torso tensed. The sight of the man’s full laugh and toned stomach tensed, combined with the domestic feel of the moment makes you smile and flood with warmth and emotion, turning back to concentrate on making your tea.

‘Sorry, love. Couldn’t resist.’ Merlin chuckles once more, the clicking of the boiled kettle bringing him back down to earth. Seeing you in his shirt in this beautiful apartment, and being so comfortable around him was not making his feelings any less prominent. He’s feeling not very talkative, and very tired, nervous for what tomorrow holds. He’s not himself when he leans forward and places his chin on the flat of your shoulder, gazing at the spread of teas in front of him and humming in contemplation at which brew he should have. He’s even less himself when he puts one hand on your waist for leverage, and uses the other to grab a herbal tea blend, plopping it unceremoniously in a teacup.

You gulp at the contact, but don’t want to scare him off, and allow him to touch you, savouring the contact. Taking a deep breath as he stands upright, removing his grasp on your waist and chin on your shoulder, you hope your voice doesn’t betray you when you ask ‘milk or sugar?’ despite it coming out a little shaky.

‘No, not for me, love.’ Merlin seems unfazed by the crossing of so many lines that just occurred, deftly pouring the water from the kettle and declaring that they each need three minutes to steep.

Ordering you to go back to bed, that he’ll deliver the tea, and that you should clean the papers off the bed so you can both get some sleep, Merlin allows himself to process what he just did, and the fact you didn’t smack him away. He smiles to himself, his foul mood lifting slightly at the idea that perhaps a relationship with his beloved Agent Gawain might not be so ridiculous a concept.

You fan yourself to dispel your fiery red cheeks, grappling with the papers on the bed and shoving them haphazardly on the desk as Merlin rounds the corner with two teacups with a contented smile on his face.

‘Here you are’ Merlin mutters as he passes you the steaming mug of lavender tea. You take a deep breath in through your nose, smelling the aroma of the soothing tea, as Merlin settles himself on his side of the bed, fighting with the sheets to get his long legs under. You can’t help stare at the way his long fingers grip the dainty cup, and how he effortlessly took care of the tea without a word. It makes you think of what life would be like with him, the night routine of brushing your teeth together and picking a tea out, fluffing the bedsheets and reading before bed, cuddling and falling asleep in his strong arms.

You’re ripped from your reverie as he removes his glasses, steamed up from the condensation, laughing at the sight. ‘How’s your tea? I hope it’s nice. Smells divine, you should be knocked out in no time.’ he jokes, alluding to the lavender.

‘You’re much chirpier than you were earlier, I hope you’re okay with this whole situation. You should stand up to Harry more if it really bothers you.’ you mutter, gazing into the purple tea in your hands, occasionally blowing on it, attempting to diffuse the tension you fear you’ve just caused.

Merlin’s silence draws on, and you take a breath to speak, to apologise before he finally speaks ‘Thanks, Gawain. I’m fine. Just sick of the aliases and hotel stays and Harry’s demanding of us to work remotely.’ He sighs, composing himself ‘I don’t understand why we can’t just work from the shop or the manor, surely we don’t have to be at every single mission site, right?’ He looks at you, almost pleadingly, dark eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

‘I don’t know. I sort of like the hotel stays. God knows my apartment isn’t as nice as this place’ you joke, once again hoping to diffuse the tension and try to lighten Merlin’s sullen mood.

‘I gathered. Your reaction to that balcony. Wow. You should’ve seen your face.’ Merlin muses, smiling to himself once again. ‘If you want, we can get up early and make breakfast tomorrow. Maybe eat it on the balcony?’

‘That’s music to my ears, Merlin. The way to a girl’s heart. Breakfast on the balcony.’ you joke, looking at him earnestly. ‘God we’re going to have to get up so early.’

‘Aye, let’s get some sleep,’ he says, draining the dregs of his teacup, as you do the same, ‘lots to do tomorrow.’

As both you and Merlin readjust your cushions and tuck yourselves into bed, you’re both thinking about the way he acted earlier in the kitchenette. He’s never touched you like that before, despite your close friendship. You flick off the bedside lights, both thinking of the person in bed beside you.

‘Goodnight, Merlin’

‘Goodnight, Gawain’

You’re stood in a dense rainforest, facing a highly guarded ancient ruin. Beside you is Eggsy and Merlin, both dressed in immaculate Kingsman suits, armed with their chosen weapons.

Everything is happening so fast: Merlin spraying the freeze on the land mine, shoving Eggsy off of it, the deafening ‘click’ of Merlin’s own shoe on it, his teary wink to you through the ferns as he begins to sing John Denver.

You’re crying now, watching as the man you love sacrifices himself for you and Eggsy to compete this mission.

‘Merlin, no! Please, don’t! Please!’ Your screams are muffled by choking sobs, and before you know it you can hear your name being shouted by him…

‘Gawain! Wake up! Gawain for God’s sake wake up!’ Merlin is almost shouting now, shaking your shoulder as he looks down at you in bed.

Groggily you come to, looking up at Merlin and allowing your eyes to adjust to the soft, warm glow of his bedside lamp. ‘Merlin’ you sob, throwing an arm around his naked torso.

‘It’s alright, Gawain, you’re alright. Tell me what happened. It was just a nightmare, it wasn’t real’ Merlin coos into your ear as you squeeze yourself into the crook of his neck, finally realising your sodden cheeks from the tears, sniffling into his wet shoulder.

‘It-it-y-you-’ you stutter.

‘It’s okay, just breathe, I’m here, you’re alright, Gawain’ Merlin soothes, rubbing your back as you sit up to pull yourself further into his arms.

After a while, your sobs slow down and your breathing calms, and you release your vice like grip on your Quartermaster. You sit back slightly, still remaining in his arms, but so that you can look at his face.

Seeing Merlin’s furrowed brows in fear and concern allows you to realise the truth that he is here, and that it was only a dream.

You laugh,realising the ridiculousness of the dream, and cough at a caught sob, but your laugh allows Merlin’s face to soften as he realises you’re okay.

‘What was it? Are you okay?’

‘It was you, Merlin. You’d-you’d stood on a land mine and… you know.’ He hums in acknowledgement, rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back with his hand, the other managing to hold both of you upright in bed. ‘I just couldn’t believe you’d-d-died. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t told you I loved you.’ The words came tumbling out before the realisation hit you, sobering you.

Eyes shot wide in shock, you stared at Merlin, hoping that somehow he hadn’t heard, or had chosen to ignore you, or that you’d actually said nothing at all.

That didn’t happen though, he just pulled you closer, allowing you to feel his smile causing deep lines in his eyes and mouth against the side of your face. His hand gripped the back of your head and you tightened your grip on his torso, feeling the heat radiating from his bare skin despite the cold January night.

He pulled away, gently, and you saw his eyes searching for meaning in your face. ‘Did you mean that?’ he asked, pleading.

‘Mhm.’ Shyness took over, still worrying about his reaction, and reeling from the emotion of the dream.

His deft thumbs came up to wipe your tears from your face, and, still smiling, he placed two gentle kisses on your cheeks.

‘I think I love you too, Gawain.’ He whispers, finally placing a tender kiss on your lips.

Merlin wipes away your tears, tearing himself away from the kiss, and swipes the sweat-soaked hair from your face, combing it back with his fingers, all the while rubbing soothing circles on your back.

‘Okay, angel. We need to go back to sleep, we’ll talk about this in the morning.’ Merlin whispers gently as he slowly places you back down on the cushion, replacing the duvet over your shoulders.

You never take your hand off his side, and he takes that as a hint, sliding himself flush against your back and draping his arm over your middle, tucking his chin into the crook of your neck. Taking deep breaths of your hair, you both fall asleep.

You wake to the sound of Merlin clattering around in the kitchen, and remember where you are, and more importantly what happened last night when you feel your inflamed eyes and heavy chest from the high emotions.

Merlin hears you padding into the kitchenette, evidently feeling a little awkward about what transpired during the night. He, however, handles it as if you actually are married and that nothing untoward has happened. ‘Good Morning my love,’ he says, glancing behind his shoulder at you from his post at the stove, cooking up breakfast for the two of you, ‘didn’t want to wake you. Thought Harry and his bloody mission can wait.’ He laughed, encouraging some of your nerves to lift.

You take a seat at the desk whilst Merlin finishes up breakfast, flipping open your laptop and seeing if Harry has sent anything in. You see a message from Roxy asking about Merlin, teasing you about your crush so you snap it shut, giggling to yourself about how excited she’ll be when you both get back to the shop, hopefully sooner rather than later.

‘Gawain! Breakfast’s on the balcony, put some pants on it’s freezing!’ you hear Merlin call from the adjoining kitchenette, as you grab his forgotten pyjama pants, the early riser having already gotten dressed.

You join him on the balcony, taking in the sight of him sipping at his tea and gazing up at you, flushed by the chilly London morning. ‘You look good in my clothes.’ You were going to have to get used to this new, affectionate Merlin, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

Back in the boardroom of the tailors shop, you and Merlin stood side by side in front of the screen, with Eggsy, Roxy and Arthur sat in front of you at the table.

Champagne had been poured and drank, and Harry’s beaming face at his oldest friend’s newfound love was something you’d never seen before.

Roxy’s reaction to the news that you and Merlin had officially come to the realisation of each other’s feelings was nothing short of spectacular, so much so that Merlin and Eggsy came running into the staff lounge when they heard Roxy’s bloodcurdling screams. Thinking she’d been shot or injured or something of the like, but laughing in relief when they saw you squeezed into a hug, with Merlin having to pry you away so you could breathe.

‘Well, all i have to say is, finally.’ Harry spoke, with the same tone as he would announce a new Kingsman or as one would announce a couple husband and wife, knowing that the other Kingsman felt exactly the same way.

You and Merlin never took off the fake rings you wore on that one fateful mission, and sometimes Merlin would sit and spin his ring around his finger when nobody was looking, wondering how early was too early to exchange it for a real wedding band, and to treat you to a real engagement ring.

Much of life at Kingsman hadn’t changed despite the revelation. You and Merlin were fiercely professional, perhaps even moreso than before your relationship, but the keen eye (Roxy, mainly) could often observe Merlin’s hand on your knee at your adjoined desk, or a swift kiss on the cheek or forehead from Merlin when he was called away to Harry’s office. Eggsy mainly used you as a bargaining chip when he was in trouble for stealing and/or destroying Merlin’s equipment, warning him he’d tell Gawain that Merlin had been shouting at him; unfortunately this never worked for Eggsy, you trusted Merlin deeply and knew how careful he was with his equipment. Eggsy never got away with it.

The new recruits always loved teasing their stoic instructor when they noticed Agent Gawain hanging around or helping Merlin with tasks, noticing the gentle way he spoke to you, and the intimate closeness they could sense. Merlin’s height and intelligence was enough to scare the sense back into most straying recruits, and you adored watching him assert his quiet authority every time the Kingsman needed a new agent.

Mainly though, you loved Merlin. And he loved you. Being close to one another and finally being able to express the feelings you’d both kept so secret and suppressed was liberating. You basically lived at Merlin’s central London flat. After all, it had a balcony, and he had an excellent tea selection which he’d allow you to choose from before bed, cuddling in front of the fireplace in his period bedroom as he fought off sleep, engulfed by his work. Seeing Merlin in a domestic setting was something you’d looked forward to the most, and it had not disappointed, peppering you with kisses before bed and waking you up with breakfast and a hot bath, heading to Savile Row together most mornings.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Karma - Hamish Mycroft (Merlin) X Female Reader

Title: Karma

Hamish Mycroft (Merlin) X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Sean Cobb (OC), Harry (Mentioned), Eggsy, Roxy (Mentioned), and random guards (Mentioned)

WC: 4,536

Warnings: Kingsman canon violence, guns, Reader is mentioned wearing a dress and heels, pretending Kingsman Headquarters wasn't blown up, flirting?, tension, pretend relationship for mission, banter, slight angst, cursing, nicknames, fighting, knives, blood, teasing, and fluff

Breathing heavily, you skidded across the marble floor, regretting wearing heels as you held up the hem of your dress to not trip on it. Turning down another hall, you heard the shouting of the very unhappy guards - very unhappy guards with guns - not a very good combination. Now this mission was supposed to be easy, one that was supposed to take less than an hour. But no, you didn't know what happened. Either the weapons dealer saw right through your flirting and he was smarter than you thought or something happened on Kingman's part. You liked to think it was the latter's fault. 

Harry, being the new Arthur, had asked you to go on a mission to get some files from Sean Cobb, a weapons dealer. This would've been your first mission on your own, but for some reason, Harry asked Merlin to join you. He reasoned that having a date with you would make you less suspicious. You mentally wondered and questioned why Eggsy wasn't coming with you. He usually was the one who joined you on most of your missions. But, you had forgotten that Eggsy was on a mission somewhere in France, so he couldn't do it. 

And it wasn't like you didn't want Merlin to join you on this mission. It was just that you had a bit of a crush on the older man. And, well, you're not exactly sure when it began. Maybe the moment you met him. Perhaps it started during your first week at Kingsman. Or maybe it had been there all along, and Merlin just never noticed, thankfully. Or he did, and he just didn't say anything to save you from embarrassment. Whatever it was, Merlin was your friend and you liked spending time with him. That's all it was. Even if you wished for that friendship to blossom into something more. He probably didn't even think of you in that way. You were pretty young. You were supposed to be in college at the time that you were recruited, and that was a year and a half ago. 

After you were recruited, and passed all the tests, you were given the code name, Elyan. A couple of months later, is when you met Roxy and Eggsy. Which you grew closer to. You got to spend more time together, becoming quick friends. During their recruitment, you had helped Merlin during it. He had asked you for your opinion numerous times, especially in the beginning when he flooded the sleeping room. Normally, when working, Merlin was pretty stoic and serious, so when he asked what you thought of the recruits, you were surprised but honest.

You told him the truth. "I don't think most of them will get past the parachute jump."

Merlin glanced at you before looking back at his clipboard, "I remember that was a difficult task for you." He looked up at the window, the water level rising. 

"Yeah, it was." You murmured, remembering how scared you were, up so high in the sky. 

"But you did it." Merlin commented, making you smile.

"Yeah... Thanks for reminding me. I still have nightmares about it sometimes," You jested, Merlin only shook his head, looking back at the clipboard.

Running down the hall, you almost fell as you turned another corner, pushing the thickly-framed glasses up your nose, you continued to breathe heavily. You wondered how Merlin was doing, you had lost him when everything went to hell. One minute you were flirting with Mr. Cobb, and trying to hack into his computer to get those files, and then you were being shot at while running down a hall. Again, this mission was supposed to be simple, and easy... So how did it turn into this?

- Two Hours Ago -

Brushing down the skirt of the lavish dress, you let out a nervous breath. Your reflection looked right back at you as you turn your body every which way, observing the dress as it lay on your body. It was a deep red - similar to the color of red wine - made of silk, tight to your body; perfectly showing off your curves. The straps were thin, with a square neckline, and a high slit on the side of your leg; stopping mid-thigh. The skirt ended right on the floor, hiding your black heels. Overall, it was gorgeous. You felt gorgeous. You weren't really expecting Kingsman, or Harry rather, allowing you to choose your own dress for this mission. Fixing your hair, you gave yourself one last look right when there was a knock at the door. 

"Come in," You called out, grabbing the small gold earrings - a birthday present from Roxy - and placing them in your ears. The door opened, and in came Merlin, dressed in a dashing ebony suit, black tie, shiny black shoes, and gold cufflinks. Upon meeting his eyes in the mirror, you froze momentarily before smiling at him, "Hi, Merlin, could you help me with this?" You asked, fumbling with the small gold necklace. It was in the shape of the north star, and it so happened to be a gift from Eggsy; also a birthday present.

Harry, for your birthday, last year, had gifted you a novel that you had your eyes on, and had spoken about more times than not. By the time a month had passed after your birthday, you had read the book more than three times. It was hard to put down when you weren't on a mission. And Merlin... He gave you a small dagger; which you were grateful for, it was very useful during missions, and it fit perfectly in your garter - for exact missions like this one.

Raising his fist to his mouth, he cleared his throat before walking further into the room. Upon reaching you, he carefully took the necklace from your fingers. Standing behind you, he reached around, and gently placed it around your neck; it landed delicately on the center of your chest. You tried to regulate your breathing as you felt the tips of his fingers brush against the back of your neck as he clasped it in place. Merlin's hand lingered there for a moment longer before taking a step back. "There." He stated as you let out a breath you didn't even know that you were holding. "Are you ready?"

Turning slightly to face him, you nodded. "Are you ready?" You asked him in return, only for you to get a nod in response. 

Side by side, you said your farewells to Harry, who in turn, wished you good luck. Exiting Kingsman Headquarters, you clutched your bag with one hand as you and Merlin walked down the stone steps and to the awaiting car. Merlin sped a bit further than you, surprising you by opening the passenger door for you, which made you smile. Sitting down, you buckled your seat belt as Merlin shut your door before slipping into the driver's seat. 

Beginning to drive to the large estate where Mr. Cobb was holding his event, Merlin spoke up. "Do you remember our names?" He asked, staring ahead toward the road, his face stoic, as usual. 

Huffing, you answered, "Mark and Natasha Pierce. We've been married for the past couple of months, Harry mentioned we should act like we're still in that honeymoon phase or whatever." You said, a bit irritated. "You know that I know this stuff. We just went over all of it before lunch." You added, turning your head slightly to glance at his side profile.

"Of course," He began, "I was simply making sure."

Crossing your arms, you frowned slightly, "I've been on like... A hundred missions, Merl," You watched as he glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe not a hundred but you know what I mean. I'm a damn good Kingsman." You reminded him.

"Of course you are," Merlin spoke, "If you weren't good at this, you wouldn't be here." Stopping at a light, he added, "I just wanted to make sure."

Shifting in the seat slightly, you leaned against the car, closing your eyes briefly to rest for a second. Opening them again, you looked out of the window. Looking at the sunset, you admired it for a bit, and before you knew it, you were at the estate.

Parking along the large field with the other fancy cars, Merlin turned off the engine. Turning in his seat slightly, he let a hint of a smile grace his lips at the sight of you, leaned against the car door, temple pressed onto the chill glass window, your eyes closed; asleep. Reaching over, Merlin's fingers just brushed the stray hairs that fell in front of your face, mentally debating whether or not to sweep them behind your ear. Instead, he pressed his hand on your upper arm, gently shaking you awake. Your eyelids fluttered open, blinking rapidly.

"We're here." He said simply, pulling his hand away.

Sitting up, you looked around, seeing the large home before you. "Oh." You muttered, grabbing your bag, and unbuckling.

"Elyan, wait." Merlin spoke up, your hand just brushing the car door to exit as you looked over at him, curiously, "Here." He continued before opening his coat pocket and pulling out a ring. It was beautiful. You felt your breath hitch, as your eyes widened, your whole body becoming rigid.

It was a golden band, topped with small white diamonds, and a round brilliant cut green Sapphire in the center. It was so delicate and ornate. It was perfect. 

You almost felt like crying. On the one hand, you were so happy to receive such a ring to wear for a mission, but on the other hand... You wished that Merlin was giving you the ring for a different reason. The more you stared at the ring, the more nervous you became. This was going to be a tough mission, you didn't know how you were going to handle having to pretend to be in a relationship with a man that you had been in love with. The thought of it made your stomach twist unpleasantly. None of this was real. 

Clearing your throat, you pulled your gaze from the ring. "Thank you..." You breathed, looking up at him and offering him a weak smile. Taking the ring and slipping it onto your ring finger, you felt your breath leave you. "It's beautiful."

"Harry picked it out," He spoke as he pulled out his own ring, a simple golden band, and slipped it on his own ring finger. You hummed, staring down at the ring. You knew that it was a possibility that Harry would pick out all the attire and accessories that you needed for the mission, he had done so for many missions in the past. Though, you couldn't help but be a bit disappointed.

"Well," You cleared your throat, "He isn't getting this back after the mission. It's mine now."

Merlin said nothing more than that, opening his door to walk around the car for you. Opening the door for you, you took his offered hand, stepping out of the vehicle. 

Entering the large home, your arm looped with Merlin's, you looked around at the high ceilings, paintings on the walls, and marble statues. You let out a breath, your hand at your side tightening its hold on your small clutch. Merlin seemed to notice how tense you were becoming, as he squeezed your hand that was on his arm lightly, "You can do this." He whispered in your ear.

Looking up at him, you nodded, "Right." You murmured quietly, taking a deep breath.

Merlin led you through the house, through numerous hallways, before finally arriving at the ballroom. The live orchestra was playing some sort of classical tune, and everyone seemed to be mingling together as if they were old friends. Everyone's faces were painted with smiles and their bodies were swaying slightly to the music. Though it all seemed to be a pretty calm and enjoyable scene, all these people were either corrupt government officials or criminals, all pretending. Immediately as you stepped into the large ballroom, you entered the lion's den. 

"Do you care to dance, Natasha?" Merlin asked, making your gaze snap from the dancing and up to him. 

Nodding, you offered him your best smile, all the while, you could feel the butterflies in your stomach swarming. Letting out another breath as Merlin began to make his way to the dancefloor with you, you told yourself to get a hold of yourself. This was an important mission, you had to push your feelings back and get this mission done and over with. 

'Play the part, play the part, play the part.'

Wrapping his arm around your waist, Merlin took your hand as your free hand came to rest on his shoulder. Gripping his hand tighter, Merlin began to lead you in a waltz, his dark eyes looking down, right into your soul; you couldn't look away. As he moved his foot, he guided yours, keeping the two of you perfectly in sync with the music. 'This is nice,' You thought to yourself, letting yourself relax.

After several moments of quiet and slow dancing, Merlin finally broke the silence with a question, "How are you feeling?" He queried softly.

"Better," You muttered, glancing around, you realized that you were technically supposed to spot Mr. Cobb while you were dancing. "He's by the bar," You murmured, eyes landing on the man from over Merlin's shoulder. 

Sean Cobb was a young man, around your age, falling into the family business after his parents mysteriously disappeared. He wasn't married, nor did he have children. His hair was a dark brown color, and it framed his face, stopping at his shoulders. His eyes were dark brown with a sliver of gold in them. He was wearing a black suit and a tie with an emerald pin. His outfit wasn't quite extravagant, and obviously expensive. His hands were wrapped around a whiskey glass filled with amber-colored liquid, watching the other couples dance. 

As the song slowly came to an end, you and Merlin broke apart, "That's my cue," You muttered, turning to head towards the bar. Leaning against the bar beside Sean Cobb, you waved down the bartender. Smiling, you ordered a drink, spying from the side of your eyes that Sean Cobb had been staring at you the entire time.

"Well, hello beautiful." He drawled, resting his cheek against his fist.

"Thank you. But I have a name..." You turned towards the man, looking at him over the rim of your glass.

Taking a sip from his drink, Sean gave you a lecherous smirk. "What can I call you, sweetheart?" He asked.

"Natasha Pierce..." You answered as you took a seat on the plush stool in front of him, "But you can call me anything you want." You smiled flirtatiously.

Sean's grin widened as he took the chance to look at you, his bright blue eyes slowly dragging along your figure. You wanted to throw up, but you kept your cool, allowing the man to continue to gaze at you. "My, my..." He trailed off, smirking, "Are you here with anyone?"

You sighed, lightly rolling your eyes as you took a small sip from your drink, "My husband actually." At those three words, Sean's smirk faltered slightly.

"Your husband? Where is he then?"

Raising your eyebrow, you glanced over at him, "I don't really know. He's somewhere around here." Crossing your legs, you let your leg slip through the slit, immediately catching Sean's eyes; his eyes trailing the expanse of your exposed leg. "But, enough about him, what's your name, handsome?"

"Sean." His voice was smooth, like melted chocolate.

"Hello, Sean..." You mumbled lowly, "What do you do exactly?" You asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Well, I am a weapons dealer." He responded smoothly, raising his eyebrow and leaning closer to you. You didn't move away, instead, you placed your empty glass down on the bar counter, "And what about you, gorgeous? What do you do?"

Biting your lip, you spoke, "I work for the government. So does my husband. We run the weapon creation firm." You smiled at him innocently.

You felt sick to your stomach, just being near this guy was creeping you out. On top of that, poor Merlin was hearing all of it with those glasses of his. Though, you should've been used to the thought of it, since Merlin always listened in on your missions, being the tech genius he was and all. You also hated that you were sometimes asked to go on missions because you were attractive and the targets would let their walls down around you. 

But after Harry took over as the new King Arthur, your missions were greatly based on your excellent combat strategies rather than your looks. It was just this one that you were stuck doing. Harry promised that this was the last mission you ever had to do where you had to flirt with the criminal. He would gladly send you on more combat-based missions, your comfort was important to him.

Before you knew it, you were walking down the hall to have a private chat with Sean the weapons dealer. Once you got into the hallway though, Sean stopped, and that's when you felt something press against your side. Sean wrapped an arm behind you, tightening his hold on your waist as you looked down and confirmed that it was indeed a gun. Dropping your shoulders, you turned to look up at Sean with a rather unimpressed expression on your face. 

"Really?" You began, raising an eyebrow, "A Colt?" You gestured to the gun almost painfully pressed into your lower ribs. "A bit extra, don't you think."

Sean glared down at you, pushing you forward, "Shut up, I know what you were playing at. You're pretty easy to read, princess." He sneered, and you mentally gagged at the nickname.

"Gee, what gave me away?" You asked sarcastically, watching as you turned down a secluded hall. 'Almost there...'

"I have the registry for every single weapons worker in the government who works with me," He paused in the middle of the hall, "And there is no 'Natasha Pierce' on it." Punching the code into the keypad on the wall, his office door opened. Moving inside, you quickly glanced around the room as the door shut.

"What are you going to do? Kill me?" You asked, feeling as he pressed the gun into your side, making you wince.

Sean grinned evilly, "Yeah. This room is soundproof." He turned you around, pressing your chest into his as he stared down at you; gun now pressed into your stomach, "No one will hear you scream." All the while, your free hand fiddled with the slit of your dress.

"Noted," Grinning as you watched Sean's smirk falter in confusion. You heard the gun fall to the ground, his eyes widening as he staggered back slightly; your dagger was buried deep into his stomach. Your hand tightened around the handle, "Now, why don't you give me the password to that there computer, huh?" You asked with a glare, only for Sean to spit in your face. Pulling the blade out of Sean, you watched the blood pour out of his wound. Taking a second, you watched as he stumbled further back, hitting the wall before falling to the ground; his blood foaming a puddle around him. "What a shame." You tutted sarcastically, opening your clutch, you grabbed a small napkin; wiping your face before cleaning the blood from the dagger and putting it back on your garter. "Merl, I'm in," You spoke, rushing to the computer, leaning over to jiggle the mouse, turning it on. "But I assume that you already knew that."

"Good work, Elyan. Get the files, a few guards are beginning to grow suspicious." Merlin replied but you were already on it.

~~~

And that was how you got into this situation. Opening your clutch, you grabbed your gun, spinning around to shoot at some of the guards that were chasing after you. You were able to take out three, your bullets going through their heads as you quickly backed down the hall. Once at the end of the hall, you were about to turn around the corner when you felt an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back into a small room. 

Initially, you felt the heat of panic fill your blood as the door to the small, dark room closed shut. 'Great,' you thought, 'I'm going to die in a closet.'

"Elyan." At the sound of his voice, you sighed, your stiff shoulders dropping in relief. 

Turning around in his arms, you strained your eyes to see Merlin, "Thanks," You breathed out, trying to back out of his arms, only to bump into the wall behind you. 

You felt a wave of nervousness wash over you at the mere thought that you were in a dark closet-like room, pressed impossibly close to your crush. You swallowed hard, "So, uh..." You cleared your throat, "What do we do now?" Merlin said nothing, reaching out to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. He tried a couple more times before a strand of curses left his lips, his Scottish lilt becoming more noticeable; making your heart skip a beat. He couldn't even try and kick the door down, there was hardly any room to breath, let alone move. "Don't freaking tell me that we're stuck in here." You began, raising your hand up in the limited space to pinch the bridge of your nose. 

Merlin let out a sigh, his warm breath fanning your face, "We are."

"You've got to be kidding me… This has to be karma or something." You exclaimed before muttering out, "First having to flirt with that Cobb creep and now this."

"Karma?" Merlin asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah, I mean this is your first mission in like twenty years and I stole Harry's sandwich this morning." Merlin let a small, amused smile lift the corners of his lips, as you continued, "How are we going to get out of this?" You asked the man, whose small grin turned back into a serious frown. “You’re the more experienced one out of us.”

"I've already sent Galahad our location," Merlin answered, raising his hand, his fingers brushing against a string. Cautiously, he pulled down, a light bulb quickly lighting up the place, you sighed; finally, you could see..

"He’s back? Great, so, we just wait here?" You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes, "That'll take forever."

"Unfortunately." Merlin said, "I apologize, Elyan." Glad that he was finally able to see you, and even with your hair messed up a bit, you still looked breathtaking.

Shaking your head, you raised a hand to pat his chest, "It's fine, don't worry about it." Quickly dropping your hand after you realized what you had done. "It's not like you sent me on this mission." You shrugged, looking anywhere in the small closet but at him. “I’m going to blame Harry.”

"I never told you how stunning you look tonight," Merlin stated suddenly, his hand coming up to brush the fallen strands of hair behind your ear. His hand slowly moved from your ear to your cheek. You could feel his cold hands on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

Looking up at him, you gazed into his dark eyes, "Oh... Well, thank you." You muttered, furrowing your eyebrows as you tilted your head into his hand, "What's going on with you?" You whispered, as Merlin just stared down at you, his gaze intense but warm. "Did you hit your head or something? I mean, the ceiling in here is pretty low." You sputtered out a small laugh, trying to hide how bashful and nervous you were feeling with a joke, but it didn't seem to help the situation like usual.

Merlin sighed, his hand dropping from your cheek, and looking away from you, Merlin spoke, "Nothing's wrong, I promise." His accent thickened a little with his words, "Just a bit of a headache, nothing you should concern yourself with."

"Merl, how long have we known each other?" You asked, narrowing your eyes at him, "You can trust me."

Merlin stared down at you, an unknown look in his eyes, lips pulled into a straight lip; pursed. “I’m not very good at this, love,” He muttered, almost too quiet for you to hear. It was then that Merlin seemed to shake himself out of whatever trance he was in. His eyes softened and you swore that you saw a flash of sadness in them, which disappeared almost as soon as it had appeared.

Staring up at the man, you let in a breath as you took a chance. One that could either blow up in your face or change everything. Reaching up, you stood up on your toes before placing your hand on the side of Merlin’s face, gently stroking the soft skin. Your thumbs brushed against his cheekbones lightly as you looked up at him; it seemed everything was going alright, he hadn't pushed you away.

And finally, you pressed your lips to his, soft and chaste. Slowly, you pulled back, your hands falling from his face to rest on his chest. Your heart hammered in your chest, nerves rising as you worried that you had ruined everything. Slowly, he raised his own hand, moving to cup your chin gently. You felt your breath catch in your throat, unable to say anything as he leaned down closer to you. The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils once more, making your stomach tighten.

You felt his soft lips press against yours, his mouth parting slightly. A slight gasp escaped you as you immediately kissed him back. It took everything in you not to cry in relief as you gripped his jacket tightly. All you could think was, 'thank you' to whatever higher power was out there as one of his hands came up to cup the back of your head while the other wrapped around your waist.

Pulling away, you let out a shaky breath as he placed his forehead against yours. You both stayed silent, enjoying the moment as you caught your breath. Finally, you said, "I should steal Harry's sandwiches more often..." You joked, smiling as you looked up into those enchanting brown eyes again.

He chuckled before bringing you closer, but before he could say anything, the closet door opened revealing Eggsy. He immediately smirked, looking between you and Merlin in each other's arms. "Well, time to go, love birds." He spoke, voice chipper. Awkwardly, you both pulled away, quickly leaving the closet. Walking down the hall, Eggsy continued to tease, "If I knew that throwing you two in a closet would finally get you two together, I would've done it ages ago."

The pair shot daggers at his back, Merlin mumbling under his breath. You scoffed, "Come off it, Eggsy." You grumbled, though your sour expression didn't last for long when Merlin gently took your hand in his. You smiled at him, letting his fingers intertwine with yours as you walked down the hall towards the exit.

[scarlettacklen1986]

I Don't Want To Rember •Kingsman Merlin•

Word count: 1157

Type: Angsty fluff

Warning: Mentions of Death and grieving

Paring: Merlin × Oc (description is kept limited name can easily be changed when reading)

Summary: Maggie can't process her feelings about Merlin coming back to her

Maggie was sat at the kitchen table again, it was nearly 3 am and her head was hung over a cup of coffee.

"Mag?" She looked up to see Merlin coming down the stairs of their house.

"Hey babe, I didn't mean to wake you," she smiled.

"You didn't, I woke up naturally, and realised you weren't next to me," he said.

"I just had a nightmare, don't worry about it,"

"What about?" Merlin asked sitting across from her.

"You know what it was about," she said with a heavy sigh.

"I'm alive darling," he reached for her hand but Maggie retracted her hand setting it in her lap.

"Sorry, I'm still shaking it off," she mumbled.

"I love you," he said

"Love you too,"

"Go back to bed," she said "I'll be up in a minute" she assured

Maggie never came back to bed, Merlin found her the next day on the couch asleep.

"I...I just don't know Harry, it feels like she's pulling away from me," Merlin said to Harry as they ate in his office.

"It was traumatic for her too, she watched you die, she grieved you, then she helped get you back and she helped Ginger with your surgery, she's probably still processing," Harry assured him.

"Why won't she talk to me about it?" Merlin asked.

"She doesn't talk about her feelings and she probably feels as though she shouldn't complain because you're the one who came back to life," he said.

"You make more sense than you should," Merlin said.

"I read a lot of romance books," Harry shrugged.

"You read spy novels," Merlin argued.

"I change the dust covers to spy novels," Harry said amused Merlin shook his head with a chuckle leaving to his own office.

He hadn't seen Maggie all day, she said she was too busy working vitals on Roxy and Eggsy's blood from their last mission, an undercover that went wrong and ended in both of them getting injected with a mix of poisons that they had to scramble to get an antidote to.

Maggie had been frantic figuring out the antidote as Eggsy sat holding a puke bucket as he threw up blood, Roxy held out bearly any better but she had gotten to the all-acting poison negator, all it did was slow the poison down.

But Merlin could see the file, she'd ran their blood and done every test she could on both their most recent blood samples and the ones taken when they were injected.

"She's probably working on a better and quicker antidote than what we had," Merlin mumbled. "Yeah, that's all she's doing,"

Maggie came home later than Merlin. "Hey, you hungry?" Merlin smiled.

"Not really, darling I've been working on a proper antidote for months, seriously months and nothing is working," she complained.

"Literally nothing! I can't even figure out what the poisons in that mix were, if I could do that, I could work out a mix of the antidotes for each of those poisons," she groaned as she collapsed on the couch.

"You'll figure it out my love, you always do," Merlin said kissing her cheek, Maggie smiled looking over her notes.

"Thank you, love"

"Put the notes down, they'll be there tomorrow," Merlin said later in the night Maggie sighed rubbing her eyes.

"You're right, I've got a couple theories to try in the lab tomorrow," she said placing the book down.

"Come on, to bed we go," he said holding onto her hand pulling her up off the couch.

"I love you," Maggie smiled kissing him, Merlin kissed back crowding her against the door.

He trailed his kisses down her neck, Maggie pushed away. "I. . .I can't I'm sorry," she said.

"What? What is your problem? Are you afraid to look at my scars? Disgusted? Do you think you're too good for me now? That I'm damaged goods now? Huh!" Merlin shouted.

"No! Of course not!" Maggie said quickly.

"Then look at me like I'm a person again!"

"I can't! Okay? I just can't! It's too much all I see is the view from your glasses as you exploded! How your voice just stopped! The blood on your glasses! And I had Ginger telling me we needed to continue the mission and help Harry and Eggsy! But I couldn't and then weeks later we found you and oh my god the state you were in.

I collapsed into Tequila, Then. . .Then Ginger needed help during the surgery and you were flatling and the machines were going off and Ginger was fanatically trying to get you breathing again and I. . .Froze until Harry came in to calm me down, tell me it wasn't you, it was any other agent I've performed surgery on, we had to cover your face, I could barely even function as a medic, never mind as your wife.

I sat on the floor of my surgery room just thinking, thinking, what if you died, what if you flatlined and I froze again with no one to help, what if you got better and went back into the field and you got hurt again and I couldn't do anything and every time I see those scars, It's all I think about, I can only see you nearly dead on my table, I love you but I'm scared!" She cried sat on the edge of their bed with her head in her hands.

"And I'm so selfish because I can't imagine what you're going through if I'm like this, I can't imagine what your head is like and I-I don't know how to talk about it because you don't like to talk about your emotions and I'm fine with that! Because it's always small things like Eggsy pissing you off, even when you were grieving Harry we didn't talk about it much I could deal with them, I know those emotions, I've felt them but how do I deal with this,"

Merlin knelt in front of her. "Maggie, look at me," he said gently.

"Don't act like I'm a child Hamish" She groaned.

"I'm not but I need you to look at me" he said.

Maggie rested her chin on her hands looking at him, he took her hand. "Trust me," he said gently, he moved her hand under his shirt placing it over his heart. "You can feel that right?" She nodded "I'm alive and I'm healthy and that's because of you and your amazing work, you keep each and every single Kingsman healthy and alive and I love you for that," he leaned up kissing her.

"How about this, we go to sleep, if you wake up with a nightmare, you wake me up as well and we work through it together, you're not selfish, this hurts you as much as me, I didn't suffer alone and you won't either,"

Maggie smiled kissing him "Thank you," she said gently.

They settled into bed, Maggie laid against Merlin's chest listening to his heart and it was the first time in months she'd slept soundly.

[sassy-imagines]

[jack-of-all-trades-696]

😭 I've read every Kingsman Merlin x f reader I could find can someone atleast make multiple part series for him please I'm dying get my hand on one

[renx01]

Too Sweet

Prompt: Inspired by the Hozier song Pairing: Harry Hart x (Kingsman!)Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: age gap, mutual pining, angst Word count: 6495

Masterlist

You’d joined Kingsman only five years ago, and over time you’ve become a well-respected agent, code-named Tristan. Merlin, who is your uncle, was the one who had proposed you as a candidate and helped you prepare for the role while you were still in your early twenties. The other candidates had been good, but you were nearly flawless, only taking calculated risks and never letting your emotions rule your decision making. Control over your emotions was something you always excelled in, and it tremendously helped you make strides as an agent during the initial few months and first year. This caused you to rise in rank quite quickly, making you go on more solo missions or accompanying Galahad or Percival whenever they needed assistance. Today, you’re helping your uncle instead, hacking into some cameras and security networks so he’ll be able to tell Lancelot and Galahad where to go next and what they should be looking out for. It’s something you do from time to time, mostly upon Merlin’s request when he finds the mission too complicated to oversee on his own.

‘The main control room should be south from where they are now.’ You pull up the map on the big screen which hangs in front of you and Merlin, pointing out where Galahad and Lancelot should be going next. As he’s relaying the information to the other men, you hack into the mainframe the criminal organisation and start going through the different files. ‘Any updates about the nuclear files?’ Galahad’s voice comes through the speakers and Merlin looks at you. ‘Working on it. Just focus on getting to that room.’ The screen in front of you shows Lancelot’s feed. He’s following Galahad through the many hallways and twists and turns they take, taking down guards whenever they come across them. Their moves are deliberate, quick and efficient. You turn back to your screen and after a few minutes you’re finally able to access the file Galahad had asked for. ‘I’m sending you the file now, Galahad.’ ‘Thanks Tristan.’ He replies. They have finally reached the door to the control room. Lancelot holds his watch against it and it opens. Silently, the two men enter the room. ‘Lancelot, I need you to connect us to the controls.’ Merlin states and the other man follows the order. Your screens fill with the necessary information and you start working on fully disarming and disabling  the system. ‘Galahad, please flip the green switch on your right.’ You request. Before he can really do so, a loud bang interrupts him, followed by the sound of shots. ‘Lancelot, you take those men while Galahad follows Tristan’s orders.’ Merlin’s Scottish accent seems thicker momentarily. You’ve noticed it only really happened when he was in more stressful situations; one time when you almost got kidnapped, it was so thick you could barely understand him despite having a mostly Scottish family. Calmly, you instruct Galahad what buttons to press and switches to flip. After a few minutes of him following your lead as you type away at your computer, you’re done. ‘Galahad. Lancelot. The system has fully been disabled and disarmed. Get back to the jet.’ They start running through the building and Merlin glances at you, giving you a small smile before going back to helping them follow the quickest route out of the building. 

‘You did well, Tristan.’ Merlin ruffles your hair and you smile at him. ‘Thanks. You didn’t do too badly yourself, old man.’ He laughs and lightly punches your arm. ‘I’m not that old, your mother is 10 years older than I am.’ You snort and teasingly say, ‘And you Merlin, are 12 years older than I am.’ After that comment, a comfortable silence settles between you. There were a few more tasks you had to complete before tomorrow, so you decided you would spend the evening and night at the mansion.  About an hour after the mission finished, Merlin leaves, leaving you alone in front of the large screen filled with documents. Quietly, you continue working for a few more hours before you call it a night. You’d finished your side of the report, only needing Galahad and Lancelot for the final few details. You’ll probably ask them about those during the debrief tomorrow afternoon. 

Once you’ve locked your computer and turned off all the lights, you silently walk to the kitchen, where you start making a pot of tea. The room is dark, as you only turned on the light above the stove. A sound from behind you catches your attention. Looking back, you see that your two colleagues have just returned from their mission. ‘Evening gentlemen.’ You greet them. ‘Tristan, good evening.’ Galahad walks up and stands next to you, just as the water starts boiling. ‘Would you like a cup?’ Your hands continue moving, putting in the tea egg to let the leaves steep. He hums in response as he grabs two more cups. ‘Chamomile?’ Galahad quietly asks and you nod. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you while Lancelot leaves the room momentarily to put some of their things away. Once the tea has sufficiently gained colour and flavour, you pour some into the three cups. Grabbing your own, you sit down next to the chair you’d draped your suit jacket over. Harry sits down across from you and puts down Lancelot’s cup next to him. You both quietly drink your tea, your eyes scanning that day’s paper. When you look up, you notice his eyes are trained on you, making you a bit nervous. Before you can say anything, though, Lancelot walks back in and starts talking about their flight back to England and the newest Royal scandal of the week. The other man’s attention shifts to his colleague who is talking excitedly. Your eyes scan Galahad’s features. He is handsome, smart, quick-witted, and a gentleman. A combination which has led you to, over time, develop a bit of a crush on your colleague. 

‘Tristan, what do you think?’

You turn your head to face the other man. ‘I think the situation escalated unnecessarily, had the royal family handled it properly, this would’ve never become public.’ He smiles and Galahad interjects. ‘I agree with Tristan, this situation could have easily been avoided.’ The two men continue talking and you sip your tea.  ‘Gentlemen, I’m heading off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the debrief.’ You stand up and put your cup into the dishwasher. It was already 11 o’clock. ‘Tristan,’ Galahad stands up, ‘if you’ll allow me, I’ll walk you back to your room.’ Smiling, you nod. ‘Of course Galahad; thank you.’ He leaves the room with you and as you walk, he leans sideways in your direction and whispers. ‘Thanks Tristan. I was a bit tired of Lancelot talking. He’s been going without pause from the moment we got on the jet.’ It didn’t surprise you in the least. ‘Of course Galahad. Lancelot tends to talk quite a lot; I suspect his favourite sound may be his own voice.’ He snorts. ‘I suspect you might be correct.’ The hallways are silent except for your quiet footsteps and conversation. The distance between the two of you seems to become smaller as you continue walking and talking; until you stop in front of your door. ‘Galahad, thank you for accompanying me.’ You turn to face him and smile. ‘Of course Tristan, it was my pleasure.’ His voice was quiet. The silence between you is tense and Harry seems to slowly be leaning closer as he holds your eye contact. Moments, which feel like hours pass, but he doesn’t make a move. Your noses almost touch when he seems to snap out of a sort of trance and clears his throat, pulling back quickly. ‘Ah Tristan, I should get going. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ As he walks away, you stand frozen in your doorway.

The following morning you watch the sunrise outside, a hot cup of coffee in your hand. It seems no one else is up yet. You’ve left your suit jacket in your room and have your sleeves rolled up, the crisp air touching your form. Behind you, you hear your dog walking and sniffing around. ‘Ares.’ The Doberman walks to your side. ‘Want to go for a walk?’ He barks and you pet him behind his ears. ‘Let’s go.’ You smile and he runs into the field in front of you, with you following calmly. Upon your return, you’re greeted by Merlin, who looks to have woken up not too long ago. ‘Morning Tristan.’ Ares excitedly runs up to the Scot. ‘Morning to you too Ares.’ He puts down his coffee and pets the dog with both his hands. ‘You’ve got an awful lot of energy today, haven’t you?’ ‘He really does, he’s been running around for over an hour already.’ You laugh. ‘I’ll bring Albion to play with him later today.’ He takes a sip of his coffee. ‘I’ll be back momentarily, can you watch Ares for a second?’ He nods. ‘Thanks.’ you say and smile at him. You walk into the kitchen through the open doors. Putting down your cup, you start brewing another cup of coffee. The kitchen is still quiet, but you know that more of the agents that have stayed the night will probably start walking in soon, though it probably won’t be many. Lancelot and Galahad you knew for sure, others you weren’t too certain about. ‘Morning Lancelot.’ You say as you hear the man walk in. ‘Agent Tristan.’ He greets. ‘Want some coffee?’ ‘Yes please.’ The smell of another fresh coffee fills the air. You smile as you hand him a cup. ‘You feeling alright?’ ‘I will once I finish this.’He groans before the two of you clink your cups. ‘See you at the briefing in an hour.’ 

You spent that hour with Merlin and Ares, mostly in silence. The Doberman is as happy as can be, with the Scot and you taking turns throwing a ball into the field and having the dog return it. It was nice spending time with your uncle like this. Usually you have to be  quite serious around him, as you mostly speak to him here, at Kingsman. Now, you can, even if it’s just for a moment, relax and have the relationship you used to have when you were younger and neither of you were a part of the secret service. ‘Uncle Hamish, we should probably get ready for the briefing.’ You say as Ares runs into the distance. He has his eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun. ‘Just five more minutes; Galahad will be late anyway, he seemed a bit off yesterday evening when I saw him.’ That last comment piques your interest, but you decide not to pry. The meeting room was still empty when you walked into it with your uncle. A few minutes pass before, you are joined by Lancelot, who is, once again, talking excitedly. While you don’t necessarily have the energy for him, you stay professional and listen with intent. He is still talking your ears off when Galahad finally arrives, about five minutes late. Despite Merlin having made a comment, it is still quite unusual for him to be late. 

‘Glad you could join us, Agent Galahad.’ Merlin calls out from the far end of the room as the other man enters. ‘Terribly sorry for my tardiness.’ Harry excuses himself. ‘Morning Galahad.’ Lancelot greets him, instead you just wave at the agent. Everyone sits in their usual spots, with Galahad across from you and Merlin to your left, though he almost immediately stands up, walking in front of the screen which shows the most vital information related to the mission. Most of the information isn’t new to you, as you’d helped your uncle prepare. Whenever Galahad or Lancelot give additional information, which you hadn’t been able to gain before the meeting, you write it down into the report. Your attention is fully focussed on what everyone is saying, that is until you notice that Galahad’s eyes seem to linger on you a bit longer than usual whenever you make a comment. Eventually, his eyes meet yours. He quickly looks away and focuses on Merlin, who is saying something about the risks which may occur in the future. Yesterday’s mission has likely only slowed down the organisation, meaning that you’d still have to find its core and try to eliminate it. Still, all the new information which has been gained is quite useful. Your gaze reverts back to your laptop screen as you continue typing away. 

‘Agent Tristan, could you please explain to these gentlemen what you did to fully disarm and disable the system?’ Merlin’s sudden attention to you surprises you, but you stand up confidently and walk to his side. Galahad’s eyes seem to burn into the back of your head as you do so. ‘So how we did it is -’ Everything goes smoothly as you explain the process thoroughly to the other agents. Hopefully, you’ll be able to join them in the field next time, rather than having to sit and watch from the sidelines to assist them from a distance. You aren’t sure that’ll actually happen however, as it really depends on what kind of mission it’ll be and what is needed of you.  After a few minutes, you’re able to sit back down. Neither Lancelot, nor Galahad had any questions, which you assume is probably a good sign. There are only a few more things you need to discuss, with most of them only requiring only a little of your input from time to time, so you silently drink some tea as Lancelot and Merlin talk. Galahad is remarkably silent, only asking a few questions or making comments when he deems it necessary. Usually, he’s more talkative and tends to lead the conversation, but today he seems to have chosen to leave that to Lancelot. As your uncle is saying something about the implications of such an organisation having access to nuclear weapons, you feel another foot hit yours. At first, you ignore it; but when it happens again, you look around. It couldn’t be Merlin or Lancelot, leaving Galahad as the only suspect. You quickly look at his face but he acts as if he’s innocent. When you feel a third tap, you let your eyes meet his. The lines around his eyes crinkle mischievously, while the rest of his face doesn’t seem to change. You tap him back, your oxfords hitting the side of his silently. This time, his eyes do not divert to Merlin or Lancelot, and it almost feels as if you’re the only person in this room with him. The feeling is short lived however, with his gaze shifting away when his name is mentioned by one of the other men. Still, his foot remains in place, connecting the two of you. Despite the intimate gesture, his feelings for you remain unclear.

The meeting comes to an end, you and Galahad act as if nothing happened when you stand up. Everyone leaves the room and as he passes you, he slips a small folded note into your hand. You do not get a chance to read it though, as Merlin immediately starts up a conversation with you as you walk the wing of the mansion where the individual kingsman offices are located. ‘Tristan, could you send me the report after lunch?’ You nod. ‘As long as we’re going on a walk with Ares and Albion after, you know he’s missed you lately, and this morning wasn’t enough to make up for that.’ He laughs. ‘Of course.’ Together, you walk into Merlin’s office, where you quickly discuss the last few details before you leave for your own. There, you work on the report for a bit longer, adding the finishing touches before sending it to Merlin. Ares lays in the corner of your office, playing with one of his toys quietly. The folded piece of paper sits next to your keyboard, still not read. Once you’ve finally finished the report, you grab and slowly unfold it. Galahad’s handwriting is neat, but not delicate.

Tristan,

Meet me in the library at 21:00 tonight. 

Yours faithfully,

H

‘I suppose I’ll go read in the library tonight, Ares.’ You whisper before you put the note into your drawer and motion your dog to follow you to the kitchens to have lunch. He walks at your side when you enter, and calmly waits as you brew tea and make lunch. Once it’s ready, you decide to eat it outside, as the weather is quite nice today and Ares will be able to run around before you go for the walk with Merlin.  Half an hour passes before you’re joined by your uncle, who has his dog, Albion, with him. She’s a border collie who is usually quite serious and focused, but gets very excited when she gets to play with Ares. The two of them are best friends, so you and Merlin try to have them meet up and go on a long walk at least once a week. This doesn’t always happen though, as duty calls whenever it does, resulting in having to cancel quite frequently, which happened the past few weeks. Today isn't such a day though, and once you both finish your lunch, the four of you start walking your usual round around the grounds. You and Merlin chat away about anything and everything while Ares and Albion run around together and fetch a tennis ball from time to time. It’s calm and you’re enjoying yourself. It’s always quite nice to spend your time like this. All nice things must come to an end though, and after forty-five minutes of walking, you have to return to work.  ‘See you later Tristan.’ Merlin says before walking to his office, taking Albion with him. ‘Later.’ You wave before walking in the opposite direction. Galahad hadn’t been there when you returned from your walk, so you assume he’s at the shop to get a few things in order. It’s probably for the better, as you aren’t sure what you would do if you were to cross him in the hallway right now. He’s constantly giving you mixed signals. Yesterday, he seemed to lean in to kiss you before pulling away suddenly. Today, he almost continuously avoided your gaze, yet wanted to stay connected in some way that wasn’t visible to others, and he wrote you a note telling you to meet him later.

‘Fuck.’

You whisper to yourself. You’re falling for him, hard. You have been for a long time. You always told yourself it was merely a crush, but you’re unable to deny it any longer. This revelation isn’t your biggest problem though. Your biggest problem is whether he would even be interested, as he’s constantly giving those mixed signals. Tonight you’d decide whether you’ll ever act upon your feelings or not. You’d never particularly cared for the kingsman code which prohibits any relationships, though it hasn’t been necessary for you to break it either, as you hadn’t been interested in any relationships in the first place. Kingsman always comes first in your life. This means that you’ve never actually taken the time to think of finding a partner or date around. What you are worried about, is that Galahad is someone that always follows the rules and doesn’t even think about bending, let alone breaking, them. This may be an explanation for him being so hot and cold with you. Still, it’s confusing and worries you. ‘Good afternoon agent Tristan, is everything alright?’ Arthur greeting you pulls you out of your thoughts and you realise you’re standing in front of the door which leads into your office, your hand on the doorknob. You have probably been standing there for a couple of minutes now. Quickly you turn the knob and start walking in.  ‘Ah yes Arthur, I was just lost in thought. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some paperwork to attend to.’  You smile at him before swiftly closing the door once Ares has entered the room as well. 

The evening couldn’t come soon enough. Thinking of whatever Galahad could possibly tell you continued racing through your mind the entire afternoon, meaning that you were quite distracted for the most part. Merlin visited you shortly before dinner to discuss the report and what he altered before sending it off to Arthur. While he clearly noticed that you were distracted, he decided against saying anything about it and left. Shortly thereafter, you decided it’d be a good idea to go for another walk with Ares, as it’s a good way of distancing yourself from the setting in which you usually see Galahad. This time, though, the walk lasts for several hours, with the sun starting to set once you start heading back to HQ.  When you arrive back at HQ, it’s nearly nine, so you decide to bring the Doberman to your office before heading to the library. Galahad, or Harry which you rarely ever refer to him as, is already there, waiting for you. He turns to face you and smiles when you enter before greeting you. ‘I’m glad you could make it agent Tristan.’ You nod nervously but try to sound casual. ‘Of course, any time, Galahad.’ His eyes look over your form and you do the same. The tension between the two of you is palpable but you try to ignore it as best as you can. For a moment, nothing happens. The both of you stay still, frozen in place.  Suddenly Galahad moves again and walks up to you. In a moment of passion, he grabs your face and kisses you deeply. It’s so intense it feels as if he’s bruising your lips. When you don’t move, he starts pulling back. Quickly, you pull him to you once more and kiss back, one of your hands in his hair and the other pulling his tie. The two of you fight for dominance and he pushes you against one of the bookshelves, his left hand now resting on your hip.  Eventually, he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. For minutes, the two of you stand like this, silently enjoying each other's presence and closeness. ‘Tristan.’ He whispers. ‘Yes Galahad?’ The man sighs and slowly leaves your embrace. ‘Shit.’ You hear him mutter under his breath. ‘Shit shit shit.’ He backs away, as if he’s only just realised what happened. ‘Galahad, what’s going on?’ ‘I cannot do this Tristan.’ His voice sounds almost desperate. ‘Galahad, what do you mean you cannot do this?’ He doesn’t reply and walks away, leaving you alone in the library.

You didn’t see Galahad the rest of that week and you threw yourself into work, only leaving your office to go out with Ares. If you hadn’t had him, you probably wouldn’t have left your office in the first place. That Friday morning, Merlin comes in unannounced and finds you sleeping with your head on your desk. He wakes you and you slowly sit up straight. Your suit jacket is discarded somewhere in a corner and you look a bit of a mess with your hair all dishevelled.  ‘Are you sure you’re feeling alright Tristan? You really shouldn’t be overworking yourself.’ Your uncle asks you, he sounds quite worried. ‘I’m fine Merlin, I promise.’ He sighs. ‘You do not look or act as if you’re fine. What’s going on?’ You just shake your head. ‘It’s nothing really, I’ve just had to catch up on some work. Please don’t fret it.’  ‘We both know that’s a lie, Tristan. You’re always ahead of everyone when it comes to paperwork.’ He stops for a moment. ‘Look, both you and Galahad have been acting off all week and we can’t have that. I don’t know if there’s anything going on between the two of you, but I want you to fix it, especially if it’s affecting you like this.’ His voice is stern. ‘You should go talk to Galahad then, I’m not the guilty one here.’ You stand up for the first time in what feels like years, your knees and back hurting with every move. ‘I don’t have the energy for all this, go talk to him if you want to know more.’ Silently, you usher him out of your office and shut the door behind him. While you love your uncle, you really couldn’t deal with this right now.

The scotch in the corner of your office had been a little too appealing. That combined with the very limited amount of food you’d had over the past few days, made it very easy for you to become drunk. You sit in your chair feeling very sorry for yourself, as you do in such situations. ‘You know Ares, I’ll go talk to that asshole. He kisses me like that and then he avoids me all week. I suppose that’s not very gentlemanly of him.’ Standing up, you feel dizzy and you have to grab a hold of your desk to keep standing. The world seems to be turning and Ares looks to have multiple heads. ‘Fuck.’ You hadn’t realised how badly the scotch had affected you. Still, that didn’t stop you, and you stumble through your office door. The hallway is empty when you enter it, as is usual at this time of night in HQ. Galahad’s office is only a few doors down and you try to walk there as normally as you can. Taking a deep breath, you knock multiple times. When there’s no immediate answer, you knock again, but more loudly. ‘Galahad, I know you’re in there.’ Your voice is loud enough for him to hear on the other side of the door, but not loud enough to wake any of the other kingsmen. Though they probably wouldn’t wake up unless you screamed loudly enough for it to reach the other side of the estate. Moments pass, but the door is eventually opened by the agent. ‘Tristan.’ He greets you solemnly. ‘I need to talk to you, you pretentious asshole.’ The words fall out of your mouth and there is no stopping them. ‘You are no gentleman. You invite someone to talk to them alone after MONTHS, LITERAL MONTHS, of looking at each other longingly and flirting, then kiss them in the way you did and JUST WALK AWAY LIKE THAT?????’ He finally looks up at you and realises the state that you’re in. ‘WHAT IN THE HELLS IS WRONG WITH YOU INCOMPETENT PRICK????’ You jab your finger into his chest. ‘Tristan, you are in no state to discuss this, please go to bed.’ He grabs your hand. ‘YES I AM, I AM A GROWN ADULT THAT CAN MAKE THEIR OWN DECISIONS. YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER.’ ‘Yes you are, but you’re currently incapable of making any good decisions. So, please quiet down before you wake up Mr. Pickle.’ Before you’re able to respond, he grabs you and surprisingly easily throws you over his shoulder. ‘Now, I’ll be escorting you to bed, as you don’t seem to be capable of doing that yourself.’ He completely ignores your protests, which continue for about five minutes before you realise there’s nothing you can do about this situation. He only puts you down when you’re in front of your bedroom door, as he needs you to open it. ‘I’m going to put you down, but please stay quiet. I don’t want you to wake everyone up.’ You nod and mutter to yourself as he puts you down. ‘Still an asshole though.’ He laughs to himself. When you finally have both your feet on the ground again, you’re stable momentarily before you start falling over again. Galahad notices and steadies you by grabbing your shoulders. ‘Careful now, sweetness.’ His lips touch the shell of your ear and you slowly feel yourself going red. You ignore it though, steadying yourself with his help before walking to your door and unlocking it. When you try to open it you almost fall into your own room and so Harry catches you, before the world around you slowly goes dark.

The following morning you wake up in your own bed, not remembering how you got there in the first place. Ares sits next to your bed, looking up at you as you wake. ‘Morning, my boy.’ Your voice sounds more like a groan than anything else. He nudges your arm and softly barks when you eventually sit up. The light hurts your eyes as you look around, so you close your eyes and lay back down. Once you finally open them again, you notice that there’s a glass of water and a pack of paracetamol next to your bed. ‘Who put that there?’ You look at Ares and pet him before taking one of the pills followed by a gulp of water. The headache you have is slowly driving you insane, so hopefully this’ll help. Still, it remains unclear who actually put it there after probably finding you in quite the state. Usually, you could easily hold your liquor, but apparently your body had other plans yesterday. You do realise that you’re still in your clothes from the day before. So, you decide to get out of them and put on something more comfortable before calling Merlin. ‘Morning Merlin.’ Your voice is quite hoarse. ‘Ah Tristan, I was wondering when you’d call.’ He sounds quite amused for some unknown reason. ‘What do you mean?’ The Scot laughs. ‘Well, I got a notification earlier this morning that you’d be out of the office today because you’re ill. Thing is, agent Galahad is the one who notified me, which is a bit odd to be honest.’ You groan. ‘Well he’s right about me not feeling well.’ Slowly, you lay back in your bed.  Merlin didn’t talk to you for much longer after that and he remained quite vague about what Galahad had told him about the night before. Despite you desperately wanting to know what had happened the night before, you decided that would be a problem for tomorrow before heading back to sleep.

That night, a knock wakes you from your slumber. You almost jump out of your bed at the sound, scaring Ares a bit. ‘One moment please.’ You shout at the person behind the door before calming your dog. ‘I should take you out for a walk in a few, shouldn’t I? I’m so sorry Ares.’ After whispering that, you stand up and walk to your door. Opening it slowly, you reveal Merlin’s form. ‘Good evening Tristan.’ He smiles. ‘Thought I’d bring you some dinner.’ The tray he’s holding has a plate with a baked potato, some carrots and broccoli, and some beef, accompanied by a large glass of water and a cup of your favourite tea. He walks in once you’ve further opened your door, putting the tray on the small table that stands in the corner of your room. ‘Do sit down.’ His voice is soft. You do so silently, Ares laying down next to you. ‘Thank you.’ Your voice is soft and you start eating your first meal of the day. Merlin sits down across from you. ‘I do hope this was a one time thing, Tristan.’ He sighs and takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand. ‘It won’t happen again, sir.’ Your voice can barely be heard from across the table. ‘Look, you’ve been doing flawlessly so far, so getting drunk and insulting go Galahad isn’t something that’ll affect you or your career in any way. It can, however, have an effect on how well you’re able to work with him in the foreseeable future.’ Your eyes don’t meet his. ‘Now that I’ve scolded you for getting drunk and acting in the way you did, I would like to know why. Harry hasn’t wanted to tell me anything and I’m against just checking your glasses if I can ask you.’ Your plate is only half finished but you’re already full and you put down your cutlery. ‘I’m not sure you want to know.’ Leaning back, you make yourself more comfortable in your chair. ‘Galahad has really said nothing?’ He shakes his head. ‘Well then, I suppose I’ll tell you what’s going on; under the condition that this will strictly stay between the two of us. Not even Galahad can know.’  ‘Why are you being so secretive about this?’ He enquires. ‘You’ll understand once you hear the full story. Now do you promise?’ You hold out your hand with your pinky ready for him to intertwine with. And he does. ‘I promise.’ A smile creeps onto  your face. This is something you’d always done with him when it comes to promises, starting when you were just a little kid. ‘So, as you may have noticed the past few weeks, there’s been some tension between me and Galahad, or Harry.’  You start. ‘But this has been an underlying issue for years now -‘ 

That night Merlin listened as you talked about how the situation between you and Galahad had unfolded over the past few years and more in detail about the past week or two. Understandably, it was quite a bit for him to take in, and at first he wasn’t certain how to feel or respond. If you hadn’t been who you are to him, he would’ve been fine with it. But with the familial ties you have, and the fact that he and Galahad are best friends, made him hesitate. Yet, he promises to keep quiet and have you and the other man resolve it by yourselves. He would, however, urge his friend to do so if the issue isn’t resolved within a week, meaning that you’ll have to hurry up when it comes to talking things out. He did make clear that he isn’t against you having a relationship with the older man, his tone may have even been slightly supportive, which was somewhat unexpected.

The next time you finally see Harry it’s Sunday. Exactly three days since you’d last seen him and had had the drunken encounter. There you stood, in front of his apartment, your heart pounding in your throat. He’d been at the shop the past few days while you were at the mansion. Merlin was quite convinced that Galahad was, in fact, avoiding you, so he’d suggested you go visit him that evening. Well, suggested was quite a loose term in this case. It was more that Merlin just dropped you off here and told you to ‘Go ahead and talk it out’. Obviously, this was his way of forcing you to do so, as he is quite sick of having the two of you avoiding each other.

Finally, you ring the doorbell and you stand there waiting nervously for Galahad to answer. He does after a few minutes and the confusion is quite evident on his face. When he doesn’t say anything, you start talking. ‘Sorry to bother you Galahad, but Merlin’s dropped me off so we can talk things out.’ You smile sheepishly and he sighs before letting you in.  You have never been inside his home before, so you look around curiously as he leads you into his kitchen. He was wearing his usual attire, save for the glasses. Apparently, he had been cooking dinner when you rang his doorbell. As you look around the room, not moving, he clears his throat. ‘Would you like to join me for dinner Tristan?’ The question is logical, yet you aren’t certain whether he actually wants you to join or if he’s asking it out of obligation. You’re hoping it’s the former rather than the latter. ‘If you don’t mind. Otherwise we can talk and then I’ll leave, I don’t wish to intrude Galahad.’ He motions you to sit down. ‘I would love for you to join me, I’m almost finished cooking dinner anyway, so do feel free to have a seat.’ When you do so, he turns around to face the stove once again before finishing dinner. It is a simple yet delicious meal, and you appreciate the gesture of him inviting you to join him. It is mostly spent in silence, save for a few comments appreciating his skill, or talking about the goings on at the shop and HQ. 

After dinner, Harry offers you a cup of tea before pouring one for himself and sitting down across from you. It is silent for a few minutes before he finally speaks again. ‘I would like to apologise.’ His voice is soft. ‘I should’ve handled this situation differently and not have run away in the way I did.’ As he says this, his eyes divert. ‘It is just that I was, and still am, quite uncertain of how to go about this. I do not wish to hurt you, but in my attempt to do so I did the opposite of what I had intended. I thought you were too pure, too kind. You’re too sweet, too sweet for a bitter man like me. Yet here I am, madly in love with you and confessing my feelings.’ When he finishes talking he looks you in the eye once more. There’s emotion in them, seemingly a mix of sadness and regret. ‘Galahad, I don’t know what to say.’ You pause. ‘I understand why you may have hesitated to approach me in the way you did, however, I am quite confused as to why you ran away so suddenly. You are the one that made the initial move and I never approached you because you were likely to have reservations about breaking kingsman code, yet you gave me hope by inviting me to the library to talk. And for a moment, when you kissed me, I thought we could be together, even if it was just for a moment.’ Slowly, you stand up from your chair. Putting down your cup of tea in the process. ‘Then you went ahead and ripped my heart out by walking away like that. As if I mean nothing to you, as if you weren’t the one that made the first move.’ You raise your voice a bit, but try to stay calm. Following your example, he stands up as well and starts walking towards you. ‘I truly am sorry but it is up to you whether or not you forgive me.’ He looks down into your eyes. ‘What will happen if I forgive you, Harry?’ The two of you are almost touching each other, only a few centimetres between your faces. ‘I shall take you on a date and be your partner. That is, if you’ll have me.’ Rather than answering him with words, you pull his tie and kiss him passionately.

[muiitoloko]

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.

First and Second part here.

Also read on Ao3

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.

[bullet-prooflove]

“why is it so difficult for you to accept a compliment?” With him please 🥰❤️

“Why is it so difficult for you to accept a compliment?” Hamish whispers against your jaw, your head tipping back into the cushions of the couch as his lips trail lower, ghosting over the curve of your throat. “To understand how alluring you are.”

His body covers yours, firm and unrelenting. His fingertips undo the buttons of your shirt, the fabric parting as his mouth delves lower, brushing over the curve of your breasts.

“So fucking perfect.” He murmurs in that Scottish lilt of his, his tongue trailing over the white scar indented in your flesh.

He maps you out with his mouth, seeking out those deviant little spots, the ones that drive you crazy. He’s always so attentive, so passionate, so loving. His fingers grasp at the waistband of your trousers, his heated breath teasing across your skin as he looks up at you, those dark eyes full of yearning.

“Let me show you how beautiful you really are.”