#kingsman fanfic

[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."

[your-averagewriter]

Can you please write a steamy make out scene with Eggsy Unwin x fem!reader? Tysmm

Summary: Eggsy comes back early from a mission and neither of them are wasting any time together.

Word count: 1.0k

Warnings: Kissing, making out, mention of nakedness? steamy but not smut, suggestiveness.

-

-

My eyes struggle to focus on the TV screen in front of me, some movie playing but I couldn’t tell you which, I stopped watching a while ago, just thinking about when Eggsy is gonna come home. He’s been gone a few weeks now on some sort of mission that neither of us know when it’s gonna end, could be tomorrow or it could be another week.

I nearly drift off to sleep, my head perfectly resting against the pillow of the sofa as I watch the characters on the screen as they run around before the doorbell rings.

Sighing, I pull myself up off the sofa, wondering who it could be at this time, it’s not like I ordered any food or a package. I drag myself through the house, before placing my hand on the handle of the door, opening it, tiredly rubbing my eyes.

“Hello?” I ask tiredly, looking at the person at the door and seeing Eggsy standing there with a smile.

“Hey, darlin’.” He smiles brightly.

“Eggsy, you’re back!” I say, all signs of tiredness leaving my eyes as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down to my level and into a hug.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” He asks, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me up and placing a kiss to my cheek.

“No, I was just watching a movie.” I dismiss with an excited smile.

“What movie were you watching?” He asks and I roll my eyes.

“It doesn’t matter! You’re here now, I can’t believe you’re back.” I say quickly. “You should’ve told me, I would’ve dressed up or made dinner or something.” I smile, pressing my lips against his, pulling him closer to me and I can feel him smiling against my lips.

“You don’t need to dress up for me, love.” He reassures after pulling away with a grin. “I love you no matter what you wear, I especially love these PJs.” He says, smirking as he thumbs the fabric of my pajama shorts.

“Well, you don’t look too bad in a suit either.” I smile playfully, my hands pressed resting on his chest, playing with the lapel of his suit.

He leans down, placing his lips just in front of my ear. “You know, I think we’d both look better without them.” He whispers and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

“You sure? You look really good in a suit.” I tease.

“Oh I’m sure, darlin’.” He says with a smug grin before leaning back down, towards me, pressing his lips against mine, this time his hands are on my waist as my arms snake around his neck, both trying to pull the other impossibly closer.

After a few seconds, he nips at my lips but as my eyes flutter open I remember his glasses and pull back with a small smile.

Slowly, I reach up and carefully take off his spy glasses as he looks at me with an amused yet confused expression as I chuckle.

“I don’t want your little spy friends watching us.” I chuckle as I place them on the counter.

“I think I turned ‘em off.” He says and picks them up to check, putting them back on again for a moment. “Merlin?” He asks, looking off to the side.

“Aye, still here mate.” He says through the glasses, I can only hear because I’m so close.

“I’m switching off.” He says, pressing a button on his glasses. 

“Enjoy yourself, lad.” I hear him chuckle through the glasses before they switch off.

“You should be more careful or next time we’ll have spectators.” I chuckle.

“Would that be so bad?” He grins, a playful glint in his eyes so I hit him gently as a joke.

“Yes.” I say like it’s obvious and he just laughs. “Now hurry up and kiss me.” I smile, looking up at him.

“Whatever m’lady wants, m’lady gets.” He jokes with a charming smile before leaning in and kissing me again, the warmth of his lips a welcomed feeling as they push against mine in a delightful harmony.

His hands find their place on the small of my back, pulling me closer with soft but dedicated movements. My hands move to the base of his head fiddling with the strands of his hair, teasing the gel out, revealing the small curls. Threading my finger through his hair, I tug gently on the brown strands, pulling him closer, forcing his lips against mine.

His tongue swipes against my bottom lip as he pushes me backwards against the wall of the hallway. The impact causes me to gasp, allowing his tongue to slip past my lips and mingle with my own.

His hands move to my hips and I wouldn’t be surprised if his grip leaves marks I’ll find tomorrow. 

He hums against my lips before pulling away breathless, needing to catch his breath and I’m in no better state.

His cheeks are dusted pink despite his confident demeanor, strands of hair falling in front of his face, covering his eyes as he reaches out to fiddle with my top, his fingers quickly trying to undo the buttons.

“Let’s get this off.” He smirks, undoing the buttons, quickly pulling open my shirt, leaving it resting on my shoulder, covering only my back as his eyes trace over my chest. “You’re such a pretty little thing, ain’t ya?” He asks with a prominent smirk, his eyes raking over my body despite it not being the first time he’s seen me naked.

Feeling my cheeks heat up at the attention and staring I quickly move my hands to his suit, gripping onto it and pulling it off his shoulder and throwing it onto the floor.

“Thought this was a little unfair.” I mumble, undoing the buttons of his shirt hastily and he certainly doesn’t complain.

“I agree, the less clothes the better.” He grins as I pull open his shirt, pressing my lips against his feverishly, my hands explore the lines of his torso, along his chest as I trace over his body.

“So handsome.” I mumble between breaths.

Pressing his lips against mine, I feel his hands run down the sides of my chest, thumb rubbing small circles on the soft skin.

“God, I missed you.” He whispers against my lips.

“Missed you too. Missed this.” I mumble, wanting to be close to him as long as possible.

-

AN: I've got a lot of requests at the moment so if you've requested something and I haven't written it yet I just haven't gotten to it. It's been a busy couple of weeks so just bear with me :)

I hope you enjoyed reading!

[creedslove]

HEARTLESS 💔 - PART SEVENTEEN

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: the morning after the night you and the cowboy spent together had everything to be full of love, but a visit is going to ruin your plans

(this is the seventeenth chapter of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• Part one to sixteen on my MASTERLIST

Warnings: sad thoughts, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide attempt, fluff, angst, mom!reader

A/N: what can I tell you besties? I know it took me a long time but here's our cowboy for another ride... some of you didn't like the angst was back, but well, we know their love is stronger than anything that goes on, right?!

4.3k words

"I love you"

Those three simple words echoed through the cowboy's head as he watched you close your exhausted eyes and drift off to sleep. He pulled you closer to him, your head resting against his chest, heart beating fast, nose buried into your beautiful hair while his hands rubbed your back and traced invisible patterns all over your skin while he thought of everything that went on between the two of you. He had exhausted you, hell, he was exhausted himself and yet he couldn't fall asleep, the emotions of the latest events still running through his veins like adrenaline stopping him from simply closing his eyes and relaxing. You loved him, he knew that, in fact, everyone did, even though the heartbreak you had was the biggest, saddest and most intense situation you had ever gone through, it still wasn't enough to erase the feelings you felt for a certain cowboy; just as his desperate, pathetic and insisting trials of moving on, forgetting about you or even trying to hate on were just as big of a failure as he was. He loved you deeply, simply and raw. The kind of love that unabled him from moving on, from trying again, the kind of love that took away all the thrill in going out for one night stands like he often did before you walked into his life. The kind of love that made him think it wasn't worth living anymore, not while he was lacking that love, when he made the worst mistake of his life, choosing his own grief over his actual family, too scared to move on and being trapped in the past because it didn't scare him as much, when he thought the safest for the three of you would be going separate ways, so you wouldn't hurt him with the constant memory of his first wife and unborn son, so he wouldn't torture himself with the fear of betraying her memory and not being able to be there wholeheartedly for you and your son. He was scared, not only that, he was terrified and in his clouded judgment, he really believed he was doing the right thing, of course now he had a healthier mindset he could clearly see the kind of shit he engaged himself into and nearly lost for good the chance of being happy once more. He loved you so much, but he realized he had always taken it for granted, assuming you would always be around, and once he kicked you out of his life, a part of him assumed - and even hoped for - there would be a return; that you would crawl back to him, beg him to take you and your son back, but he was proven wrong once more when he met your power, your strength, and just then, when he didn't have you, he realized how much he truly loved you. Perhaps it was because of all the years of loneliness that followed the death of his wife and son, and Jack associated love with absence, that was one of the fruity, fancy things his therapist had said. He had tried several times starting therapy, but he never really engaged in it, he never really cared for it, and he was so sure it wouldn't be different when Champ set his cards on the table and told Whiskey would get only a suspension, therapy sessions and a shitty excuse of being brain damaged after being shot in the head, instead of being fired from the Statesman, kicked out like an old dog and sent to prison. At that moment, Jack sort of thought that was exactly what he deserved.

He was hopeless, knowing that he had made the worst mistake of his life, pushing away the family God had gifted him, his second chance of being happy and protecting the ones he loved and yet, he had been blind to see it. At that point of his life, his son growing from a tiny little dot in an ultrasound, to a small baby and finally evolving into a cute toddler he couldn't lie to himself any longer, not like when he told himself that dropping amounts of cash in your bank account here and there were enough. He knew they weren't. For the first time, he understood the weight of the stares and the silent judgments from people around him: Helen, his sister, Champ, Ginger, Tequila. It was no secret what happened, and it was also no secret he had made his family go away.

He was lost, he was lonely, he didn't have anything to live for. He thought that by sabotaging the mission he would be able to finally get some sort of revenge over whoever killed his wife and son - the cops could never identify them - but when he had the control of the situation, even for a brief period of time, he didn't feel anything, he was numb. Perhaps the excuse they came up with for the official Statesman reports wasn't so wrong, maybe Jack had had some kind of brain damage because of the shot, the first evidence would be Ginger resetting his memory by using a picture of you and Wyatt; he never knew how she got that picture of the two of you in the first place, his guess would be you being under the Statesman's protection program that covered the agent's families.

When he woke up from his comatose, he was so full of energy, as if he was twenty something again; seeing that hot chick in a lab coat with that sterile environment around that was somehow both so familiar and yet completely unknown to him, all he felt like doing was jumping off that bed and wooing her into bed with him, that was when she showed him a picture of a pretty lady. He looked at her, she was gorgeous, he knew he had seen her before but he couldn't remember at all. The lab coat lady watched him with confusion but took another picture out of her pocket and the moment Jack laid eyes on it, it felt like his head was exploding. Everything coming back to him at the same time, all of the memories returning, the tragedies, the happy moments, broken hearts and mended hearts all at once. His head was pounding as if someone pierced through his skull with a knife until he was brought back into his senses, but then, he was numb again.

He was numb because he had lost two families, one of them was taken away from him and the other he had pushed it away, and he would never forgive himself for that. He was a broken man, he was hopeless, he was a coward. He had tried ending his miserable, empty and useless life a couple of times, but he was just too much of a coward to do it right. It was like he somehow asked for help, when he thought he only deserved to be six feet under. He had no reason to live, so he took the opportunity he needed in order to try his final act. He went after Eggsy and Harry, knowing eventually someone would stop him. Deep down, Jack knew his plan was kind of stupid and it didn't even make that much sense, but he had to tried, in his mind, the best case scenario was someone ending his everlasting pain and he could finally find peace, and he was sure he was going to make it, the moment his lasso got stuck and he was meeting the meat grinder, he closed his eyes, praying it would be painless and fast, and the last image that crossed his mind was you.

You running to him like you often did, getting off Silver Pony and rushing to meet him, wrapping your arms around his neck and crash your lips gently for a welcome home kiss. This time, however, Wyatt would be with you, looking exactly like he did the last time Jack decided to follow the two of you through the street, and his heart tightened, it was too fast for him to notice it had been you, and not his late wife that crossed his mind in his final moments, and his heart tightened, he didn't have time left, but perhaps in the afterlife, he would be as happy as he could've been with you and your son.

And then that young man pulled him back.

His cowboy hat had already been shredded when he felt himself being lifted up and taken away from that real life nightmare. Whiskey knew he wasn't the best person in the world and he had had his fair share of bad actions, but he didn't think he deserved to die that way, not in such a cruel and gruesome way, that would be heartbreaking to everyone. He couldn't even imagine how Helen or his beloved sister would take the news that they couldn't even see his body because technically there wouldn't be much left of him, so for that, he was relieved. His memories of that day were kind of foggy, after he'd been knocked out by Eggsy, he only woke up at the Statesman's headquarters.

The first few days after the mission were pretty odd, everyone stared at him as if he was a traitor, and to be honest he was, not to Statesman, it wasn't anything personal, he would always love that company, the people who worked there and also his job, but he had betrayed himself. Whenever he walked down the hallways for his humiliating therapy sessions, he thought about how he needed to see you, but there was no way he could find you at that moment, not with the surveillance Champ had placed behind him all the time, after what happened, he worried the other agents would assume he was going to try to harm you and Wyatt somehow.

So Jack went to therapy instead, at first thinking he was just wasting his time and rolling his eyes at everything the therapist said, that until his words began hitting him deep, and slowly the cowboy started opening up, and before he could tell, the tears ran freely down his cheeks as he poured his heart out, in hopes he could be fixed.

All that painful path was what led Jack back with his family, after doing things wrong like he very often did, he managed to crawl back into your heart, after he showed you he loved and cared so much about you, despite being a dick, and you also gave in, because you were tired of fighting off the feelings you had for him and above all, the longing to have a real, stable family with him, so he cherish and appreciated those moments, even if they still seemed too good to be true, he vowed himself to make you happy for the rest of your life and never take you and Wyatt for granted. In the painful memories, his arms tightened the grip around you, making sure you were there, safe in his embrace and you shifted softly, smiling at the fact you had always had a deep sleep.

He watched you as you slept, he had always loved doing that, seeing your chest raising up and down at your calm breathing, he rested his head on him, closing his eyes and concentrating into your heartbeat, you were alive, well, in his arms, that cowboy couldn't wish anything else in his life, and yet, he did. He had one more desire, something you had already denied, you'd been adamant about it even, but that all had happened before you had changed your mind, before you broke the cowboy hat rule and told him you wanted to be with him, you wanted your family to work. He wanted a baby with you, another member of the Daniels family, he wasn't in a hurry, now that he had you and that you weren't going anywhere, now that you were staying next to him, watching Wyatt grow up and taking care of him. He wanted to make things right, like he was supposed to have done it once you two were together at first, he should've stepped in, become a man and treated you exactly the way you deserved it: like his wife.

And once you two were settled on that, he wanted you to have another baby, a baby girl if he could choose, because that cowboy wouldn't resist a tiny little princess looking like her mommy, the love of his life. He just knew, without even trying too hard that the moment that little girl opened her eyes, she would have that old cowboy wrapped around her tiny little finger in a heartbeat. He chuckled at the mere picture of it, shifting your body so you would lay your back on the mattress and rested his head on your stomach, closing his eyes as he imagined and prayed hard a little dot could be growing inside of your womb already. He just wanted to be there for you, for Wyatt and for the new baby you could maybe have together. His lips trailed a path of kisses right under your belly button, his mustache tickling your skin softly, but not enough to wake you up.

"Come to us soon, my baby" he whispered into your womb and fell asleep.

•••

You washed your face with fresh water and stared at yourself in the mirror, liking what you were seeing: no dark bags under your eyes, silky hair looking good after your brushed it - after all, your cowboy had a huge soft spot for your hair - and a glow that you recognized from the times you were feeling extremely happy and alive. Giggling as you analyzed yourself in the mirror, you could see the marks that hungry cowboy had left on you. You neck marked with a trail of hickeys that drove you insane at the moment you got them; feeling another wave of warmth down your core, you decided not to cover it up with makeup or any accessory, there was no need to it, after all, you and your son would be staying on the ranch for the next days and it was so secret to anyone there - or anyone outside of it once you returned to the city - you were the cowboy's and he was yours.

It was madness to think that everything you felt the night before could become a routine like it had been once, that all the pleasure Jack gave you, he could give you again over and over every single day; that man could be a little distant if one didn't know him yet, but from the moment you get to know him and he takes a like on you, Jack Daniels vows himself to please you as best as he can. It wasn't different with you, he knew exactly what to do to you, your weak spots, it was his sweet way of domination, and now that you woke up drunk in love, you would be glad to let that man dominate you for the rest of your life.

Jack was still sleeping when you exited the bathroom, his face buried deep into your pillow, making you giggle, he had always been a needy sweet man after all. You lifted the blankets and got rid of your slippers so you could join your cowboy in bed when soft knocked interrupted you; you widened your eyes, knowing it could only be your son. A wave of guilt rushed through your body as you hadn't even thought of him for the past hours, being so deep into the experience you shared with your man, but thinking about it, Wyatt was safe and sound, asleep after the best weekend of his little life and his mommy and daddy did deserve some time on their own.

You opened the door to him, smiling as your son hugged your waist and giggled

"Hi mommy!" He said with his sweet bright eyes, not letting go of you until you took him into his arms and lifted him up. Wyatt looked inside the room curiously and gasped as he saw his daddy asleep, staring into his eyes he giggled "why did you have a sleepover with daddy and not me, mommy?" He tilted his head and wrapped his tiny arms around your neck "I miss you mommy" he whispered into your ear and snuggled and you felt like your heart was bursting with love. Your son was just so sweet and adorable and you also missed him, it had been just the two of you against everything and everybody for most of his life and you saw it then that the two of you missed it.

"I miss you too very very much, my little cowboy… would you like to snuggle with mommy and daddy some more?" You asked and he nodded eagerly, not letting go of you even if his little life depended on it. You got yourself under the blankets, your son immediately tucked between you and his daddy, but he was facing you, staring at you with his beautiful, soft eyes "you are so pretty mommy" he said sweetly and rested his face against your chest falling asleep.

Jack chuckled and looked at you "seems like you found your love bug, sugar" he winked and ran his fingers through Wyatt's curls, looking at his son with pride in swallowing his heart. You took Jack's hand, entwining your fingers together and sighing "you're so handsome, I hope you know that" you whispered and pecked his neck gently, loving the taste of his skin, just like you love everything else about your sweet cowboy. Whiskey could see how sleepy you were and smiled gently at you "sleep sugar, rest and close your beautiful eyes that I'll be here when you wake up" your cowboy's silky voice was enough to soothe you and make you close your exhausted eyes, falling asleep with your lovely little family.

•••

Wyatt shook his head and frowned confused at the words he had just heard, he had even stopped nibbling on the delicious bread and butter during his breakfast.

"No grandma, daddy loves me!" He said confused and looked up at the older woman, who chuckled and shook her head, you mom just rubbed his back gently and sighed

"I'm sorry baby boy, but daddy doesn't love you.. as grandma said, when mommy had you in her belly, he told mommy to leave and said he never wanted to see you or her again! He doesn't love mommy either, daddy is very selfish and he only cares about himself. Mommy didn't even let grandma come to your birthday party because of him" she said but Wyatt refused to believe her, his daddy loved him and he knew it.

"Why wasn't your daddy around you? Because he didn't love you nor mommy" she shrugged and he jumped off her lap "no, you are lying, grandma!!!"

"I'm not! Don't be a naughty boy!" She censored him raising her voice at the same time you and Jack came downstairs. He had his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and pinching your sides playfully making you giggle and squirm. Jack had his hat in his free hand and he only had eyes for you, however, he noticed immediately how your soft and carefree expression changed into a frown and your jaw clenched, but before he could say anything else, the two of you were welcomed by your son's cries as he looked at you

"It's not true, grandma! Mommy, tell grandma it's not true!" He whined and clung to you, looking up at Jack with eyes filled with tears and sniffling sadly.

Your mom just laughed softly and shrugged "I didn't lie my love, I wish I did but it's the truth" and then she eyed you up and down, the disgust in her face at the clear proximity to the cowboy, how his hand still lingered on your hips and of course how you hadn't even bothered to cover up the hickeys he had left along your skin, she couldn't believe and accept you were back with that man already, and in her twisted mind, she needed to do something about it.

"What did you tell my son, you witch? Huh? My little cowboy was perfectly fine earlier this morning, he was happy and chirping like a damn little bird and now he's crying? What did you do?!" Jack roared, his fatherly instincts kicking in the moment he saw the distress, and knowing how his mother-in-law hated him and apparently wouldn't even spare her own grandson from her petty feelings. The woman just laughed again and folded her arms

"What do you think I said?! I told him the truth about how his daddy had a family he loved very much, the only family he ever loved and when he lost them, he just got another replacement which was his mommy but when she got pregnant with Wyatt, he told her to go away because he didn't love her or her son, he just loved his other family" she shrugged and looked at him. You thought Jack was about to explode, you had never seen him so angry, his face was livid, red with anger and if he could would've attacked her right there and then, but he used all his strength to hold himself back. At the same time you asked your mom harshly what she was doing there, the three of you were stopped by Wyatt's loud sob. He looked up at his dad as tears ran down his face and he cried his little heart out.

"I-Is it true daddy? You don't love me? You love your other family?"

And Jack's heart shattered as hard as he had never felt before, it felt it had been ripped off his chest and shredded to pieces, he couldn't handle the disappointment and hurt into his son's eyes, and all because of him. He shook his head and got on his knees, bloody red eyes full of tears, staring into his son, he tilted his head at the same time his strong hands pulled Wyatt closer "n-no son, daddy loves you and mommy, more than anything. There was a family yes, but they are gone and daddy made a lot of mistakes but I've never stopped loving you, I-"

His heartfelt words were interrupted by the quarrel you and your mom initiated, if Jack was able to control his anger, you couldn't say you owned the same skill he did, quite the opposite, you were shaking with anger and all you could see was your son's hurt feelings, if you felt that way, you couldn't even believe how your cowboy must have felt. Not only that, how your poor son must've been hurt by it, his daddy had been his world ever since they met and now, after your mom's venomous words your son cried his little heart out.

Wyatt couldn't handle that, he liked to see his mommy and daddy happy, playing with him and not crying and yelling at his grandma, so he turned around and ran outside the door, wanting to find the only thing that could calm him down.

You cried and tried controlling your anger, no matter how many times Jack had held you by the waist and tried to convince you to stop yelling and causing a scene, but you couldn't rest and stop until you saw your mother out of Jack's ranch, only when you couldn't see her car down the road was when you felt a little better, still you had a lot of damage control. You cried with anger and sadness, your mom had no right to do what she did, she could hate your future husband as much as she wanted but she could not bring her grandson into it. The way your sweet little boy cried was haunting you and how hurt his poor little heart was. Jack was at a loss of words, he hated he had disappointed his son that way; he felt like a complete failure as a man, and as a father. He couldn't even think of how he ever wanted to have another child, if he could barely handle the one son he already had. You paced the kitchen and finished your glass of water, sighing relieved as Jack walked inside. You frowned softly "where's Wyatt?!" You questioned him and he just mumbled something about him being outside playing with Silver Star.

"Is everything okay?" You asked even though you knew everything was not okay, everything was far from okay, after your mom waltzed into your seeming perfect happy ending and screwed things up; even Jack changed his demeanor, if before he was just all lovey dovey towards you, now it was clear he needed some time on his own. He turned around and faced you, frustration was written all over his face, his body was so tense it was visible so he just clenched his jaw before sighing "Wyatt won't talk to me, you should check up on him, maybe he'll talk to you…" after all your mother fucked it up that was what he wanted to say, but he knew it would be mean, that wasn't himself talking, it was his anger and he could see you were just as stressed as you were, it was not fair he would take it out on you, you didn't deserve this. Jack cleared his throat and looked at you with much softer eyes, taking a step forward and wrapping his arms around you, his embrace was comforting and soothing, as he rubbed your back up and down

"Talk to him, sugar, maybe he won't hate me if you do…" his voice cracked and so did your heart; you couldn't accept your mom was such a heartless person who was willing to end your family's happiness like that, you needed to do something about it.

____

[epicrainbowsheep]

Sugar you're worth the pain

Agent Whiskey x Reader

You've asked Agent Whiskey to help you put your new furniture together, the instructions seem to get the better of you both.

Warning Smut

I had wayyyy to much fun with this, it was originally meant to be just fluff but I got carried away... The idea for this is inspired by @ezrasbirdie imagine of Carsalesmen Jack Daniels getting frustrated with instructions, I pissed myself laughing reading that post and needed to make it reality. And yes I did laugh while I wrote the paragraphs of Jack loosing his shit, I enjoyed this wayyyy to much 😂

A whiskey glass sat untouched on Agent Whiskey’s desk, his eyes strained from staring at the computer screen with the recent mission reports. He leaned back in his chair as he took a swig from his glass, the amber liquid leaving a burn as it goes down his throat. His eyes closed as he slumps in his chair, pulling his hat down to cover his face, muttering “A small nap won’t hurt”.

About half an hour later he was woken up from his sleep by a knock, “Come in” he said as he stretched his back, immediately regretting napping in his chair as he felt a twang of pain from his neck.

“Agent Whiskey?” The door opened to show his fellow Agent, (Y/N) aka Agent VB. She looked at Jack through her Statesman issue glasses, he looked out of it but smiled as soon as she entered. “Yes (Y/N)?” His knees cracking as he stood up, walking towards his whiskey bottle and poured himself another glass.

“Are you still going to help me assemble my furniture tonight?” She asked as he picked up his glass, “Yes of course I am” smiling as he brought the glass to his lips, he winced as the pain from his neck came back. He walked (Y/N) to the door and leaned against the frame, smiling again masking his pain.

His smile dazzling you too much to not notice, too busy basking in how handsome he looked in his black Stenson and tight formfitting button down shirt. You bite your lip and walked towards your desk, pulling out the desk chair. “Remember that I’m buying dinner as a thank you!” You called back to him, from your desk, “Don’t worry Agent VB I won’t” He winked as he closed his office door.

——————————————————————————————

You double checked the furniture you had in the flat-pack boxes in front of you, “Bookcase, desk, bed frame, the dining table chairs are coming tomorrow” hearing the knock at the door you got up from your crouched position, walking to open the front door to Jack Daniels in all his cowboy glory. He’d managed to changed before he came over, in jeans and a t-shirt, “I made sure to bring my toolbox, wasn’t sure if you had any” he tapped the black tool box in his hands and rests it on the kitchen bench.

“You are correct, in my last place I helped my roommate put some draws together, neither of us had hammers so we used our high heels” You laughed, beckoning him to follow you, “Remind me to get you a hammer then” he chuckled as he followed you into the living room.

“So what are we working with here sugar” Jack took off his hat as he gestured to the multiple flat packs on the ground of your living room. “There is a desk, bookcase and a bed frame” pointing to each box as you list down the furniture items. Jack whistles and shakes his head “You know I’d be easier to actually buy your furniture already built”, he started to open the box labeled ‘bookcase box #1’.

“True but it would be a nightmare to get them up the stairs of my apartment complex” you helped Jack put the contents of the box out on the floor, “Where are the instructions?” You thought out loud.

“Maybe in another box?” Both of you open the other boxes, ending up finding the instructions in the third box, “You’d think they’d be in the first box” Jack opened up the instructions and put his reading glasses on, you couldn’t help but admire how sexy he looked with glasses on, the amount of times you’ve daydreamed about him with nothing but those on as he would lazily thrusted into you-

“Sugar we better get started” Whiskey’s words snapped you back to reality, “Yes Da-Jack” trying not to let him see your red face as you nearly called him Daddy, attempting to sort the rest of the nails and screws apart. After separating all the parts, Jack started reading the instructions, his eyebrows furrow and eyes start to squint in confusion.

“What does the instructions say?” You peek over his shoulder to look at the instructions, “There all just pictures! Where are the words? it’s all arrows and black and white lines?” He scratches his head, you pointed to the section at the top of the instructions, “I think this is where we start and that is what we need to put it together” Grabbing the screws and a wooden plank and not so confidently smiled at him, “We better get started”.

Both you and Jack ‘attempted’ to put the bookcase together, you managed to get the main rectangle base together with one shelf in place, “(Y/N) this doesn’t look right” you both stared at the sorry excuse for a bookcase, it was crooked and had no back.

“I feel like we missed some pieces” you looked from the picture to what you both managed to put together, “But we used everything that came in the boxes” you continued talking, Jack nods in response as he inspects the bookcase, he pokes it with his index finger, it wobbles but stays upright.

“Darlin’ I don’t think this is a bookcase, it doesn’t even have a back!” To prove his point he sticks his arm between the wood, “Any books sitting on this will fall through” he grins as you walk towards him, grabbing one side of the bookcase “Moving it to the wall will fix it, now help me move it” Jack nods as you both pick it up, instructing him where you wanted it.

“Now that’s one down lets conquer this desk!”

————————————————————————

A half assembled desk and variety of tools are sprawled all over the floor, Jack’s trying to figure out how to attach the draws. He’s loosing his mind, he’s been at it for 3 hours now and is at his breaking point. “Please slide in” Jack attempts to slide in the draw and it jams.

“FUCK I GIVE UP! He yells, slamming the draw onto the top of the desk in frustration, the impact collapsing the whole thing. He winces at his neck, the action causing the pain too ebb back. “JACK WHAT THE FUCK” your eyes go wide as you drop the hammer you we’re using, in shock of Jack’s outburst.

“You know ‘what the fuck’ is up, this damn fucking flat pack shit! I can’t even read the instructions even with my glasses” he storms passed you to the bookshelf, “It definitely is in another language, even the linguistic team couldn’t translate this shit!”. You watched him stomp around, you’d never seen Jack like this. Agent Whiskey the ever suave flirty boss, always the southern gentleman, a voice so smooth that’d make anyone (you) instantly orgasm. A flat pack has reduce him to an angry 6 year old having a tantrum.

He goes to lean on the bookshelf “And to top it off this furniture ain’t good quali-“ as his elbow makes contact there is a loud crack, it snaps underneath the sudden weight and collapses, taking him down with it.

There was only silence following a groaning Jack, his neck even worse than before. Jack looking towards you for help, to only be met with a shit eating grin. “What you grinnin’ at” he mutted, that set you off laughing. You tried to walk over but doubled over, rolling on the floor clutching your stomach cackling as you went. You managed to get out a ‘You Jack’ between giggles, grabbing his hand to pull yourselves up.

“You done laughin’ sugar” he said, managing to calm yourself you wiped the tears from your eyes. “For now” you giggled, “I’ve never seen you loose your shit Jack, In all the years I’ve known you, you finally broke your ‘handsome southern gentleman’ ways” air quoting as you spoke, Jack’s mood perked up suddenly at your words.

“You think I’m handsome” you suddenly went quiet, only now realising your slip up, you started to walk backwards as he started to walk towards you. “Cat got your tongue Darlin’” you stood still, his chest nearly touching yours, your cheeks burning red that he finally caught you.

“Yes” you managed to squeak out, “You wanna kiss me?” His voice went deeper, his southern drawl really showing. “Yes Jack” he walked towards you, ripping his glasses off as his left hand went to you hold your neck, back hitting the wall as he kissed you passionately. Your hands wrapping around his back, putting him into you even more, his right hand making it to your waist, squeezing your hips then making its way to rest on your arse.

Tongues intertwined, teeth clashing against each other, all the pent up flirting over the years finally released. He grabbed both of your thighs, lifting you up as you wrap your legs around his waist, and ground into your clothed pussy, both of you coming apart, he moaned loudly as he started to thrust his growing erection into you. “Darlin’ look what your doin’ to me, makin’ me act like a horny teenager hearin’ those moans of yours” he moans again as you start sucking on his neck, “That’s it baby, claim your cowboy” his words spur you on as you start to bite his neck.

He moans even louder and thrusts even harder into you, “I ain’t gonna make it if you keep doin’ that, where’s your bedroom sugar?” You point towards your bedroom, too busy leaving hickeys on his neck. Jack just manages to make it to the bedroom and you both end up falling on the bed, “Sorry Darlin’ not being too graceful today, how ‘bout we loose some layers” he starts to slide your shirt up your torso hinting towards the obvious.

You both start making out again, one by one clothes fell off the side of the bed , leaving you both naked. Jack couldn’t believe how lucky he was, (Y/N) was sprawled out under him, her skin glowing underneath the moonlight, her (S/B) breasts heaving up and down with her breathing. Her lips slightly swollen from the making out, her lips part releasing a moan as he slid his hands to squeeze her breasts, his nose dragging along the valley of her breasts, up her neck, slowly leaving kisses up to her ear.

“What do you want baby” Jack husks into her ear, as his right hand slides down her stomach to her cunt, rubbing his fingers between the folds, making sure to rub her clit. “Finger me please Daddy” you whine out, not ashamed of anything anymore, Jack moans even louder at the nickname.

“Fuck baby” he plunges his finger into your cunt, slowly sliding one in and out, coaxing out more sweet mewls from you. “Daddy’s gonna make you feel good sugar” he slides a second finger into you, he picks up the pace, scissoring his fingers, making sure to hit that sweet spot. “Shit Jack I’m cumming FUCK” you moan out as you see white, grabbing his cheeks you smoosh your face to his, giving a sloppy kiss as he starts to reach for a condom that’s on the floor, making sure to roll the condom onto his thicc cock.

“You ready for Daddy’s dick baby” he growls into your ear. “Yes Daddy please give it to me” you cry out as he slides his cock into you, the walls of your cunt stretching around making you whine, moaning as he bottoms out. “This cowboy is gonna rock your world Darlin’ so hang on” Jack starts pounding into you at a brutal pace, the feeling of his cock going in and out was divine.

“Jaackkk your dick is sooo thicc” you mewl out, his hips rolling in a particular way that makes you cum instantly. Your pussy clenches as you cum, crying out his name, his hips falter “Shit baby you feel so tight, just like I thought you’d be” he groans out as you clench again, another orgasm building. “Such a good girl for be baby, m-makin’ me hard whenever you bend over wearing that skirt to work” he picks up the pace, both of you moaning out as he pounded even harder into you, both chasing your orgasms.

“SHIT BABY!” Jack lets out the loudest moan that you’ve ever heard a man let out, crying out his name in the process as he stills. You could feel his cock pulse as he came into the condom. He pulls out, grabbing your waist as he slumps onto his back, the horniness must have blocked out the pain as his neck twinged again.

“Jack that was amazing” you sighed laying onto his chest, “That it was sugar, can I ask you for some painkillers? My neck has been killin’ me” he felt you smile against his chest. “Been waiting for you to ask me, noticed when you were bending down to pick up the hammer earlier” you slipped out of bed, coming back with some painkillers and a glass of water.

“Thanks darlin’” He kisses you sweetly once you hand them to him, “Jack you ever used a memory foam pillow?” He shook his head “Never thought I’d need one, you swap your pillows around. “Try mine, they really help with bad necks” he laid back down, wiggling his body to get comfortable. He sunk into the bed, sighing in delight “Baby that feels so good, come ‘ere” his arm opens to let you in, snuggling up to his body as he pulled the blankets up.

“Your always lookin’ after me” he mumbles into your hair, before his stomach grumbles. “Shit we never got dinner!” You groaned out, Jack pulls you in closer to kiss the top of your head. “Don’t worry baby we can order some food later, this cowboy is tired” his arm pulling you even closer, “Jack?” You asked head lifting off his chest to look at his face. He opens one eye as he respond “Yeah darlin’”, you kiss his cheek “Thank you for coming tonight, even if you were in pain” he grins to kiss you on the lips gently.

“Sugar you’re worth the pain”

[lady-pug]

in the morning (when the day is new)

Chapter II of Wouldn't It Be Nice

Summary: You sustain a head injury while on a mission but Whiskey isn’t fast enough to administer the alpha gel, so your memories of your time at Statesman don’t come back. Instead, you only remember up until the day before you were recruited and your memory ends up being reset every night. Jack makes it his mission to make you fall in love with him everyday (50 First Dates AU)

Pairing: Jack Daniels | Agent Whiskey x Reader

Word count: 3,5k

Warnings: memory loss

Notes: Yay, chapter two is up! And I’m already working on chapter three (I’ll try to have it out as quickly as I can)! I hope you, my dear reader, enjoy this chapter; I had a lot of fun writing it!

Next part | Previous part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

He stuttered, his breath hitching.

“What?”

He couldn’t seem to remember how to breathe, something as simple as inhaling was too complex of a task at that moment.

“Jack…”

He finally acknowledged Ginger, who was looking at him with something akin to pity in her eyes.

“What happened?”

She grabbed his elbow and practically had to drag him away into a corner.

“What happened, Liz?” he started rambling “Ain’t she supposed to remember by now? Haven’t you shown her that picture of her parents? Why ain’t she-”

“Jack, hey, listen” she interrupted “I don’t know what happened. She woke up, with no recollection of me, like usual. But when I showed her the picture… nothing. She only said she missed them, that’s all. She doesn’t remember you nor me!” she was frustrated, Jack could tell. It was understandable, you were her best friend after all.

“Uhm, excuse me?” you called, still sitting confusedly on the bed “Am I clear to go? Or is there anything else you’d like to do? Any other exams?"

They both turned to you, hesitantly.

“It’s just that I have a job interview today.” you explained, a hesitant although excited smile taking over your features.

“A job interview?” Ginger took a step forward “Where?”

“It’s a-” you hesitated, your smile faltering for only a split second before you recovered “a distillery. Statesman.”

Jack and Liz shared a look. 

“It’s the day we met.” Jack mumbled “Her memories were reset to the day we met.”

“What are you talking about, Whiskey?”

“At the bar out front.” he started rambling, explaining his thought process to Ginger “She, uh, she was upset, thought the interview and trials were no good to actually get her the job. I-I offered to buy her a drink ‘for luck’. But I already knew she was in.”

Ginger smiled at the fond, if not a little desperate, way Jack talked about the memory.

“Please, Elizabeth, I’m begging you” he grabbed her hands, fighting the stinging ache in his eyes “help her remember. She has to remember-” he paused for a brief second, not wanting to disclose too much of his feelings, the ones he was still coming to terms with himself “-us. Help her remember us.”

Ginger smiled sadly at him.

“I’ll do my very best to help her remember you, Jack.”

Jack was taken aback for a moment, but he should have known she could read him like an open book. Ginger was a smart woman.

“Thank you.” he smiled back.

She turned back to you.

“Do you remember anything that happened?”

You shook your head.

“I went to sleep last night, and then… I woke up here.” you looked around “Where am I exactly?”

“A hospital. You were in a car accident.” Ginger creatively came up with that as she went.

“Oh god, did anyone get hurt?” Jack couldn’t help but smile, the way you cared for others more than you did for yourself shining through even if you had lost part of your memories.

“You did, dear.” Ginger continued carefully “You hit your head pretty hard. I want to run a few more exams just to make sure you’re okay. It’s best if you stay the night.”

“But my interview-” you started to protest.

“I have a friend who works at Statesman.” not being able to stand the sight of you in distress, Jack intervened “I’ll give him a call, explain the situation and ask ‘em to reschedule.”

Your radiant smile warmed his heart.

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Ginger walked back towards Jack.

“She seems to be suffering from a strange case of anterograde amnesia: she can remember things before her time at the agency, but not after. I’ll monitor her and see if she gets any better.”

“Okay.” he nodded, absentmindedly.

Walking out of the lab, Ginger stopped him before he could get too far.

“You should try and get some rest. I don’t know how long it’s going to take for her to regain her memories.”

“Of course.” he nodded, a bit disorientated when thinking about what he should do now “Let me know if anything changes, will you?”

She nodded and he started walking away, his mind clouded and his heart heavy. 

The moonlight was shining down on your skin. He barely registered the uncomfortable feeling of sand seeping in between his sprawled fingers, all he could focus on was the steady rise and fall of your chest laying next to him.

“I can feel you staring, cowboy.”

Jumping in surprise, he looked at how your now open eyes were staring at him from under hooded eyelids, a small smile playing on your lips.

“What are you thinking about?”

He shrugged.

“Just can’t wrap my head ‘round how dazzling you look, sweetheart.”

You snorted, dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“You’re so corny, Jack.”

“What? S’true!”

Your laughter was radiant enough to light up an entire room, he thought. Maybe he was corny afterall.

Still laying on the sand, you squirmed on your back and wormed your way next to him, perpendicular to his legs, and settled with your head on his lap. He admired your face, eyes closed again, a peaceful look taking over your features.

“What would you be doing if you weren’t an agent?”

The question startled him slightly. What would he be doing if he wasn’t an agent? He took a moment to ponder. Remembering the life he could have had if only those addicts hadn’t decided to rob the very same store his wife was at was too painful. You were one of the few people he felt comfortable enough to talk about her and his baby boy nowadays. He wished you two could have met, he had a feeling you’d have been great friends.

“I think I’d like to be a teacher.”

Your eyes snapped open, a mischievous smile.

“Mr. Daniels, huh?” you smirked “What subject would you teach?”

“Math.” you giggled in disbelief “I mean it! I can solve some killer algebra equations.” you laughed even more, some tears visibly gathering in the corner of your eyes “But if I’m being honest, I’d rather it be kindergarten.”

Your face softened. Smiling at him you nodded your chin for him to continue.

“I love kids. Especially that age, when they’re discovering the world. The faces they make when they find something new and exciting. I’d love to be able to help in that process.”

The look on your face, the pure adoration he could see in your eyes, was enough to bring heat to his face.

“What about you?” he changed the subject “Got any ideas?”

You smiled shyly, averting your eyes.

“With the answer you just gave, mine is going to sound very lame.”

“S’not. I promise.”

Looking back at him, you grin turned mischievous once again.

“When I was a kid I wanted to be a vet, or a biologist, just so I could work at an aquarium.”

“An aquarium?” he asked in amusement.

“Yeah. I really wanted to work with walrus and otters. They are really cute!”

Jack laughed, amused with your thought process as a kid.

“Walrus? Cute?”

“Have you ever seen a walrus?”

“I have” he answered “and all they remind me of is Champ.”

You burst out laughing, nodding your head in agreement. He laughed so hard at your own laughter he almost cried. Once you calmed down, you sat up and turned to look at him, a new glint in your eyes.

“Do you ever think about getting back out there?”

“Out there?” he was confused.

“To dating.”

Thinking about it for a moment, he contemplated his answer.

“Maybe. If the right woman comes along.”

The look in your eyes held something mysterious, something he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

Just as he was about to ask you the same thing, something stopped him. A beeping of some kind.

“What’s that?” 

“What’s what?” you replied, but your voice sounded very far away.

“That!” he turned back to you, but you weren’t there “Sweetheart?”

He jolted awake, abruptly pulled from the depths of his consciousness. Sighing, he gripped the bridge of his nose, fighting off the tears that were slowly welling up in his eyes, their stinging a painful reminder of what was going on in his life at the moment. What wouldn’t he give to go back to sleep, back to that dream? It was a nice dream, most of it a fond memory he kept close to his heart. It was late at night after a rough mission in Hawaii a few months back, none of you were in condition to jump on a plane and go back to Kentucky, so Champ extended your stay in the hotel by the beach for one more night. Restless from the adrenaline that was still pumping in your veins, you both decided to take a midnight dive in the ocean, which led to a quiet moment watching the stars and talking about life. He wished he could go back to then, when things were easier.

A beeping noise startled him, almost making him jump out of his skin. It was the same sound he heard at the end of his dream. Stumbling around his room, he finally found his phone, which had a bunch of messages from Ginger. Dialing her number, he suppressed a yawn, jumping into professional mode.

“Whiskey.”

“Jack, you might want to come down here, as soon as possible.” Ginger’s voice sounded slightly strained. 

“What happened?” he was dressed and out the door in the blink of an eye.

“Just… get down here.” and with that she hung up.

Almost bumping into several other agents minding their business, Jack quickly got down to Ginger’s lab. The woman in question was waiting for him outside the door.

“Ginger, what happened?”

“I think it’s better if you see it for yourself.”

She led him inside, where he found you, still sitting on the same bed, now wearing a hospital gown.

“Hey!” you greeted them. You eyed him, a confused look crossing your face before you addressed Ginger “Who is this?”

Jack turned to Ginger, confused, but she was already looking at him with a sad smile.

“We met yesterday, remember?”

Shaking your head, you squinted your eyes as if making an effort to try and remember.

“Hmm, no. I think I’d remember meeting you.” 

“What do you remember from yesterday?” Ginger spoke up.

“I went to bed last night and then… then I woke up here” you looked around and Jack felt like he was having a deja vu “Where am I exactly?”

“She woke up and she didn’t remember me, nor where she was.” Ginger turned to him, speaking under her breath.

“Can I go now? I have a job interview today!” you spoke, excitedly.

“Her memories were reset overnight?” Jack spoke, his stomach churning with worry.

“Seems like it.”

“But how?”

The woman before him sighed, and for a brief moment she looked like she had aged ten years in just a day. Walking out of your earshot, outside of the lab, she started explaining.

“Whatever happened seems to have affected her brain’s ability to turn short term memories into long term ones. Sleep seems to be the trigger for the reseting.”

“Is there anything you can do?”

“I can keep her here for a few more days, run a few more tests.”

“Yeah, more tests sound good.” he nodded, slightly disoriented by all the new information Ginger had just dumped on him.

“But Jack.” he hummed in acknowledgment “I don’t think you should keep coming to see her.”

His head snapped back towards her, eyes wide and furious.

“Why not?!” he asked, probably more harshly than he intended.

“I can see this is taking a toll on you. Seeing her like this I mean.”

“But I can’t not see her! That ain’t right! She- Liz, I-I can’t not know, I-” he stumbled over his words, worry and anger at the whole situation threatening to overflow him “She’s one of my best friends. I need to know she’s okay.”

Ginger sighed heavily, having noticed the redness and the glossy shine that had overtaken the man’s eyes.

“You love her, don’t you?” she spoke softly, almost whispering.

His rambling came to a halt, eyes widening as if she had slapped him in the face. He looked away for a moment and gulped, like even thinking about those words physically hurt him.

“Yeah,” he looked back at Ginger “I do love her.” 

“Then let me do my job.”

“I just-” he choked on a sob he was trying to supress “I can’t lose her. Not like this. Not again.”

“You won’t.”

“How can you know that?!” he snapped, practically shouting at her.

Her eyes hardened.

“Because I’m the one looking after her. And I’m really good at what I do.”

He deflated.

“I-I’m sorry, Liz. I’m sorry.”

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her eyes softening.

“It’s alright, Jack. I know how much she means to you.” she said “That’s why you should stay away for a while. I’ll keep you updated.”

“You can’t just expect me to sit around and do nothing, Ging.”

“I don’t. Can you go to her quarters, bring me anything you think might be useful in bringing her memories back?” she asked. “Trinkets, clothes, pictures, anything.”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Do you ever think about getting back out there?”

“Out there?” he was confused.

“To dating.”

Thinking about it for a moment, he contemplated his answer.

“Maybe. If the right woman comes along.”

The look in your eyes held something mysterious, something he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

“And has she?”

“Has who what?”

There was something cheeky, almost bold in your smile.

“The right woman.” your smile only grew, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world “Has she come along?”

His eyes widened, almost the size of dinner plates. You were trying to kill him, he was sure. How could he answer that, without making things awkward for the both of you? He could always lie to save face, but he knew you could read him like an open book and would see right through his lies. Clearing his throat, he thought for a minute or so, before deciding to be honest.

“I guess she might have.”

Your grin turned into a soft smile. Placing a hand on his knee, you turned your body fully in his direction.

“Yeah?”

The glimmer in your eyes cast by the moon did something to him. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. With a crooked index finger under your chin, he tilted your head up, your faces only millimeters from each other. 

“I think she is closer than I imagine.”

And then he was kissing you. Closing the gap, he placed his chapped lips on your soft ones in a sweet, almost chaste kiss. It felt a lot better than he ever expected, it even felt kinda… magical. As you pulled back he realized you were smiling at him, your hand running down his cheek and cupping his jaw.

“I certainly hope so.” you said with a dreamy expression before climbing into his lap, knees on either side of his hips. You dived in for another kiss, your hands sliding from his jaw to the base of his neck, gripping his hair. The kiss was a lot more passionate this time. His own hands moved accordingly, the one gripping your chin sliding up to cup your jaw and the other resting on your hip.

“I just want to stay here and kiss you.” you whispered against his lips, barely pulling away “Again. And again, and again” between each sentence you pressed a peck to his lips “And again. And again, until you’ve decided you’ve had enough of me.”

“Not gonna happen, sweetheart.” he said, before kissing you again.

There was a soft beam of sunlight streaming through the drapes as his eyes opened against his will. That bit of the dream was new, nowhere near part of his memories. He should have kissed you, like in the dream, he now knows he should have. Instead he had cracked some half-assed joke and walked back to his hotel room. Retreating like a coward, he scolded himself for hours later as he laid awake in his bed. A part of him longed to go back to that night and make things right.

A glance at his phone let him know Champ was requesting an all-agents meeting first thing that morning, which made him sigh. It was going to be a long day.

The past three days had been torture for Jack. Ginger ran all the tests she could think of and yet you didn’t seem to be making any improvement. Everynight your memories were reset back to the day you met. He was getting more frustrated by the hour but there was nothing he could do.

Dragging his feet into the conference room, he noticed all other agents were already there, Champ at the head of the table, Ginger standing silently next to him.

“Good. Now that everyone’s here we can start.” Champagne said “Ginger, if you will.”

Ginger took a step forward.

“As you may know, Agent Cider has been compromised in action.” Jack swallowed harshly, still not totally rid of the guilt “After taking too long to administer the alpha gel, her memories of her time as a Statesman agent haven’t returned. What’s worse, since then her brain has suffered some kind of extensive damage to the point where her memories are reset every night. Meaning she believes she’s always going through the same day.”

A hand quickly shot up in the air.

“Like ‘Groundhog Day’?” asked Lemonade, a junior agent who usually compensated for lack of knowledge and experience with enthusiasm.

“Something like that, yes. Except she isn’t aware she has already gone through that day.” Ginger resumed her explanation “The day her memories are stuck on is the day of her Statesman interview and trials.”

“Why are you telling us all of this?” Vermouth asked in that arrogant tone both you and Jack both detested.

“We are going to send her back home.”

Jack stood up so fast his chair almost scraped against the carpet.

“What? Why?” he almost yelled, barely managing to contain his fury and confusion “You can’t just give up on her!”

“Sit down, Agent Whiskey.” Champ’s stern voice left no room for argument, so Jack complied.

“We aren’t giving up on her. According to her, and to the records we managed to recover, she is supposed to come here in the afternoon to be interviewed. Instead of the physical trials soon-to-be agents are usually put through I’ll run exams to see her daily improvement. I’ll also send word to our sister branch in England and see if they can help us.”

“Where do we come in?” Tequila intervened.

“Whatever agent that is on base is to conduct Cider’s interview, everyday until she gets better.” Champ's booming voice explained “Y’all went through that interview already, you should know which questions to ask. Then you are to take her to Ginger’s lab so she can do her sciency shit. And by whoever’s on base I mean whoever’s here” he emphasized, looking sharply at Vermouth, who was rolling his eyes “except for Whiskey.”

Jack’s eyes widened.

“Why?”

“Because Ginger and I believe you’re already too involved and it’s not good for you. Take a step back and rest for a while, son.”

Whiskey went to protest, but Champ’s hardened yet kind eyes stopped him.

“Cider’s first interview is today.” the boss said after a moment “Y’all are dismissed.”

Sighing, Jack opened the door that led to the bar that was kept in the grounds of the distillery. He sat down at the bar signaling the bartender, an old friend of his.

“Whiskey, neat.”

The bartender narrowed her eyes.

“Are you sure, chief? It’s barely dusk.”

“Just keep ‘em coming.” 

She only shrugged, it wasn’t her problem really, so long as he didn’t start a ruckus or something.

With a long, defeated sigh, Jack laid his head on his arms on top of the counter, hiding his face from the world. His day had been shitty to say the least. First he got the news that Ginger was going to let you go, your memories having yet to return. Then he was notified he wouldn’t be able to see you anymore, that literally every other agent was going to interact with you and help except for your own partner. Except for him. He felt useless. Useless and helpless.

Once the bartender placed his glass in front of him with a soft thud, he raised his head, ready to down the entire drink in one gulp in order to drown his sorrows when something caught his eye across the bar. Nursing a drink and looking just as defeated as he felt, but at the same time just as beautiful as that first time (if not more) was someone he was beginning to lose hope in seeing anytime soon.

You.

[ladyaj-13]

LadyAJ’s 2023 Fics

This year I wrote 16 new stories (and one new chapter on an old one!) across five fandoms - One Direction, Endeavour, Kingsman, The Eagle and new-to-me Ted Lasso. Details below, I hope you’ll check some out - I like to think there’s a bit of something for everyone. 

One Direction

Bloom - T, 28k, Louis/Liam

Do you like historical AUs? Do you like awesome art by @whatagreatproblemtohave? Then you’ll like this, written for the One Direction Big Bang.

In early 1970s Oxford, Detective Sergeant Louis Tomlinson has to deal with the dual pressures of a case that hits too close to home, and the arrival of new colleague Liam Payne. Payne is both the bane of his existence and, uh... dangerous. Very dangerous. His eyes, that is. His lips. The way he stands.

A story of rain and cobblestones, cigarettes, and repression. And the sunshine after the storm.

In Shining Armour of Trackie and Trainers - T, 9k, Louis/Harry

Because who wouldn’t love white knight Louis coming to their rescue?

Online dating isn't exactly working for Harry. In fact, it couldn't really be going much worse. But then the door of the bar opens, and the pack of friends walking in parts and - that’s Louis Tomlinson.

Louis fucking Tomlinson.

Pageant Material - G, 6k, Louis/Zayn

Watch me throw Miss Congeniality and Kacey Musgraves together, shake it up, and give it a Zouis twist. Written for the Zouis fest.

Louis flicks a nearby switch, lighting the bulbs around his mirror in a soft glow. The buttery yellow catches on the edges of his cheekbones, sharpening the dip. He looks more grown up this year. Some of his baby fat has melted away, and he sucks in his cheeks to see what he might look like by twenty five if this pattern continues. Then he crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue.

Or, the Zouis teen beauty pageant AU.

The Way to My Heart - T, 6k, Louis/Harry

Fluffy, funny AU Larry with lots of Nouis friendship on the side. Written for the a/b/o fest.

Louis' having a bit of a dry spell, until he bumps into an attractive alpha in the supermarket and leaves with his number. It was a hard bump. Very... muscular.

The only problem is, said alpha asks Louis to cook for him - which is not exactly his skill set.

Feeling Feline - T, 4k, Louis/Niall

Nouis, my beloved, with shelter-worker!Niall and magical cat transformations. Written for the Louis rare pair fest.

“I’m telling you,” drifts through the cracked door, and Louis’ ears prick, twitching with interest. “There’s something wrong with that cat.”

“Have you talked to Liam?” asks another voice, worried. Louis thinks it’s the tall one with curly hair. Taller one. They’re all tall when you’re ten inches high.

“Not medically wrong,” the blond one says. “But I swear, and I know this sounds nuts, but I don’t think he’s a cat?”

Fine Line - G, 1k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw

It’s present day, it’s canon compliant, it’s just long enough to read while waiting for the bus assuming it’s not got stuck in traffic.

Telling his family was always going to be a big deal, but doing it alone was a sacrifice he could make.

He never thought they’d fall about laughing.

In The Dark - T, 666, Gen

Choose your own character in this spooky snippet written for the trick or treat fest.

It’s the dreams.

He’d be fine without the dreams… suggesting things. If he could face all this - whatever this is - with a clear, rested mind.

Bound - G, 619, Liam/Zayn

Vampire AU? Check. 

Months should pass like hours for a vampire, but to Zayn they’ve felt endless. Now, finally, it has come. The day he takes his consort.

Endeavour

Tread Carefully into my Life - T, 29k, WIP, Morse/Jakes

See? I told you it’s not abandoned. Maybe 2024 is the year I finally finish this canon rewrite where Jakes stayed - in the meantime, enjoy nearly thirty thousand words of their on/off up/down shenanigans!

He can't help the way his eyes drift across the room, to Morse in his shirtsleeves, arms crossed across his body. It’s a defensive posture, which is no surprise, but otherwise he looks collected. Calm. Like facing down man eating beasts is all part of the job, and despite the evidence of today, it most certainly is not part of the job.

Tigers. For the love of God, give him an axe murderer any day.

Stepping Out - G, 9k, Morse/Jakes/Joan

Established polyamory with the Oxford disaster trio. Jakes didn’t leave.

“You know what I haven't done in ages?” Joan asks, punctuating her question by flinging her legs up and leaning dramatically backwards against the sofa arm. Peter almost spills his tea. “Gone dancing. We should go.”

Kindred - G, 2k, Gen

Ohhh series nine. Pre-slash Morse/Sam if you really squint.

Sam Thursday, Morse, and the power of orange juice.

Offcuts - G, 2k, Morse/Jakes/Joan

With this final instalment, the series is complete. As a whole it's almost 32k, so if you like Endeavour and polyamorous relationships, set aside a Saturday and dive in.

Snapshot scenes of life with the trio.

Adding it Up - G, 887, Morse/Jakes

Let’s return to series three, because Jakes.

Fred’s been a copper for a long time. It’s in his bones at this point, a habit so engrained he can’t turn it off. Like Morse with his beer and Jakes with his cigarettes, Fred’s addiction is piecing things together. Even when he’d rather not.

Ted Lasso

Would You Rather - G, 1k - Colin & Jamie, Roy/Jamie

It had to happen! Diving into a new fandom is always a pleasure.

"I’m talking about percentages. Like, yeah, you’re gay. So maybe you’re at like, eighty, ninety per cent. But if I say who’d you rather fuck out of Ms Welton, Keeley and Maisie from the canteen, you know what you’d say, right?”

Colin is beginning to think Jamie doesn’t know what gay is. "Erm, no."

Squeegee - M, 525 - Roy/Jamie

Short and snappy ;)

Jamie’s beautifully vocal in bed, but long, pitchy squeaking is new.

Kingsman

The Honeypots - T, 5k - Eggsy/Harry

Partial AU with undercover, honeypot spy shenanigans and obliviousness? I wrote it for a reason. I mean, it’s right up my street.

Eggsy is MI6. Harry is Kingsman. They have each been tasked to seduce a suspected rival intelligence agent.

The intelligence part may be overselling it.

The Eagle of the Ninth

Winter Sunlight - G, 1k, Marcus/Esca

I think writing a fluffy, happy gay farmers fic is actually a requirement of this fandom. Here’s my offering.

“How is it,” a familiar voice mutters drowsily, muffled by the drape of skins and fur, “that after all these years, you still can’t manage a proper lie in?”

[castielsdeadlyparasol]

I would love some fic recs if anyone has some. I'm really in the mood for some Eggsy/Merlin domesticity. Bonus points if one or both of them are single parents, but not necessary.

[twofacedharveydent]

Till The World Ends Series | Taylor x Eggsy → Happy (belated) birthday @missecharlotte​

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Awww that was so sweet.

I've Had No Love Like Your Love - Gary "Eggsy" Unwin Imagine [Kingsman]

Title: I've Had No Love Like Your Love

Pairing: Gary "Eggsy" Unwin X Reader

Based On: Nobody

Word Count: 1,083 words

Warning(s): Insecurities

Summary: Eggsy's new job gives him opportunities and experiences that he could have never imagined. (Y/n) is worried that these experiences are going to pull him away from them. Eggsy tries his best to show that nothing he's done will ever be more important than them.

Author's Note: Pretty sure this happened because of the internet throwing edits about the second Kingsman film at me. Which I had a lot of fun watching, by the way.

WASTELAND, BABY! - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

--------------------

I met Eggsy long before his life with the Kingsman started.

He had been this bubbly, sarcastic, and all-around-loving guy. It didn't take long for him to win me over. He was charming and sweet. I fell far faster than I cared to admit.

I was happier with him than I had been with anyone else. It was silly, almost delusional, but I was getting to the point where I felt like we were going to last forever.

And then, Eggsy found a new job.

He hid it from me at first, but after seeing how suspicious that looked, he dropped the act.

I could still remember vividly sitting across from him at my dining room table as he rambled on and on about what he was doing. The training and the gadgets and the assholes he had met through it all. He told me about how his being gone for days was because he was going on missions for a secret organization that I wasn't meant to know about.

I didn't believe him at first.

That's when he showed me some of the gadgets he had. He showed me some of the suits that they had given him. I got to know the Kingsman label.

I asked him if he was going to get in trouble for telling me all of this.

He kissed me and told me that he didn't care if he did. He'd rather that than lose me. Which did make me feel very special.

I accepted every part of it.

The long trips away, the small injuries that he came home with, the lack of a steady schedule. And the dog. The dog was a nice bonus to the job.

I never wanted to question his work. And I didn't.

I never had a lot of problems with the work. I got worried when he showed up hurt, but that was kind of it.

After a while though, the stories started to get to me. I wasn't upset hearing them or jealous or anything like that, but the more and more I heard about those stories, the more I found this sickening feeling in my stomach. Like I was... disappointing him... somehow.

I heard all these stories about these amazing places and the cool stuff that he did, and I just felt... boring. How was I supposed to compare to stuff like that?

I always ignored it. Well, I tried.

In all honesty, I never thought that Eggsy noticed it.

We all think that we're better at hiding things than we actually are.

I was in the middle of putting my clothes away, listening to him go on and on about the last mission he was on. I nodded along, chuckling where it felt appropriate.

"You alright?"

I furrowed my eyebrows as I turned to him. "What are you talking about?"

"You just seem... out of it."

"What," I forced a scoff. "Eggsy, I'm fine."

"(Y/n), we've been together for a while, I can tell when you're not."

I took a deep breath as I leaned against the dresser. "I... Do I bore you?"

"Sorry?"

"Do I bore you?" I repeated. "Am I boring?"

"No, why would you ask that?"

"You just... You come home from these trips and you have all these stories about what you did and what you saw and who you met and it just... I feel boring compared to that part of your life."

He didn't respond for a moment.

"And I know that it sounds dumb and childish but I... I can't help it, Eggsy. I... I'll get over it. I don't want you to think that I don't care about your work because I do and I admire it. I don't... I don't want to be controlling or anything like that and I'm sorry-"

"Stop," he spoke up, cutting off my rambling. I did, biting at the inside of my cheek.

He walked over to stand opposite me, his back facing the bed. He pulled the sleeve of his jacket up. "See this?"

He pointed at a bracelet on his wrist. It had been a gift I had gotten him. It was small, simple. A braided bracelet with a small charm hanging off of it. It wasn't a super expensive gift, but I didn't have a lot to spend at the time. I was surprised that it had landed as long as it had.

I nodded as I looked at it.

"I wear this during every mission that I go on," he explained as he walked forward. "Do you know why?"

I didn't answer.

"Because all I care about on those missions is getting back to you," he continued. "Through every badass thing I get to do, through all of the suits and gadgets and crap, all I want is to come home to you. Because I love you. A lot. More than I've loved anyone before."

I felt a grin form on my lips. "I love you too."

He reached forward and cupped the sides of my face, smiling back at me. He leaned his forehead against mine for a few moments before kissing me gently. I kissed him back, reaching my hands out to touch his sides. It was loving, gentle, perfect.

During our small moment together, I felt something tickling my leg. I pulled away, looking down to see what it was. Eggsy's forehead pressed against the side of my head as I did. His eyes were still shut.

"What is it," he asked.

I turned to look at him again. "Your dog is licking my leg."

"What?" his eyes opened as he leaned back and looked down. "For fuck's sake-"

"It's alright," I chuckled.

"Ruined our moment."

"Nooo," I shook my head before leaning down to pick up the pug. "Were you getting a little jealous?"

The pug licked my hand as I went to pet him. I laughed quietly.

"Just wants a little attention," I said, looking at Eggsy again.

"So do I," he replied.

"The pug's cuter."

He scoffed at me. "Excuse me?"

I walked into the main room, sitting with the dog in my lap. Eggsy followed me out. He sat next to me on the couch, pulling me into his side. He kissed my head.

"I love you," he muttered against my hair.

"I love you too," I replied.

That was the moment that I started to truly believe that this life was far more perfect than whatever life with the Kingsman offered.

--------------------

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[punkshort]

Hot Chocolate

Pairing: Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x f!reader

Summary: You lead a quiet, boring life in a podunk town, but when a certain secret agent stumbles into your world needing your help to catch a criminal at the local carnival, your quiet little life changes forever.

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, canon-typical violence (fist fights, whips and lassos, of course), smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, sexual tension

WC: 6.5K

Written for @pedgito's Summer Lovin' challenge ❤️

Humidity clung to the air, and although the sun had long set, the heat hung heavy in the fairgrounds but that didn't keep the whole town from coming out to the carnival that night. You lived in a small town with not a lot to do but every year the same carnival came through and set up shop for two weeks, attracting people within an hour's drive, and every year since you were sixteen you worked there for some extra cash. Back when you were younger, your earnings tended to go towards the booze you brought to the parties in the middle of the woods, surrounded by the familiar faces of people you grew up with and their siblings. Now that you were in your twenties, that money was put toward rent and a car payment.

When you were sixteen, you had a very different idea of what your life would look like by now. Hell, you didn't even think you'd be living in this town, let alone working the same shitty waitress job at the same shitty restaurant while you tried and failed to come up with a better career path. Money was tight and the last thing you wanted to do was move back in with your parents, so you picked up extra jobs here and there. The carnival wasn't a bad gig. Pay was based on seniority and since you had worked there for so many years, the money was good and the jobs were mostly pretty fun, but it was only two weeks and you would be back to pinching pennies again.

But a week before the carnival was scheduled to arrive, a handsome man with dark hair, even darker cowboy hat and yellow aviators strolled into your restaurant with a cocky smirk and requested to sit in your section, and everything changed.

You had greeted him like any other table and subtly stole glances his way while he studied the menu, trying to figure out if you recognized him. No, you surely would remember him. Aside from his obvious good looks, he stuck out amongst the usual crowd. Dark grey, form fitting suit with a matching tie and cowboy boots? That... you definitely would have remembered.

He leaned back in the booth, one arm draped across the back of the worn cushion while his eyes slowly dragged down your frame. You glanced around nervously, suddenly feeling like you were being judged, then his eyes traveled back up and stopped on your name tag. He repeated your name out loud as if it were a question and finally looked into your eyes. His intensity sent a shiver down your spine but you nodded, confirming your name, and he smiled. It was a slow smile, one that began as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and tugged to one side, pulling his dark mustache with it until his lips spread so wide you could see his teeth. They were straight and he actually still had all of them. Yeah, he definitely wasn't from your hometown.

He didn't come back into the restaurant after that, but it wouldn't be the last time you saw him.

Two days later you made a pit stop by the Piggly Wiggly for some groceries. You made your way through the parking lot to your beat up car, stopping dead in your tracks when he came into view. He was leaning casually against your driver's side door, one ankle hooked over the other and still wearing that suit. Or maybe it was a different suit. You couldn't remember but what you did remember was the bead of sweat that trickled down from underneath his Stetson, leaving an enticing wet streak along the side of his head. He said your name and smiled, trying to disarm you, but you were still wary. He held up both palms flat as if to prove he wasn't dangerous but something told you his hands were just as threatening as any other weapon.

"Got a minute to talk, sugar?"

You glanced around the parking lot and swallowed, every natural instinct screaming at you to run back inside the store for help but instead you found yourself slowly walking towards him, as if being pulled by a magnet or some other enchanting force.

It was a bit of a blur after that. He flashed his badge, Jack Daniels, it read, with the word Statesmen being tossed around quite a bit while he explained what he did for a living, all of it sounding rather impressive but also confusing. Espionage. Spies. Undercover.

"What's all that got to do with me?" you had said. He smiled.

"Glad you asked."

Apparently he had been trying to track down a dangerous arms dealer for years. With some information Jack squeezed out of a low level guard, he discovered the arms dealer was able to be so successful because he traveled with the carnival to evade local and federal law enforcement. Always being on the move kept him under the radar, and now Jack had his sights set on taking him down when the carnival arrived in your town, but he needed help.

Jack needed someone who was on the inside, someone who earned years of trust by working for the same people and living in the same town, someone completely unsuspecting.

You.

At first, you said no, unwilling to put yourself at risk even though he promised he would be hiding in the shadows and would be in constant communication with you through an earpiece and camera. Then he offered up a few thousand dollars to sweeten the deal and your resolve crumbled. He promised you would be under government protection and your involvement would be minimal: you just needed to find the target and let Jack know which booth he was going to work. Plus, you really needed the money.

That was how you found yourself in the mid-afternoon before your shift started being suited up with impressive, high tech gear. Jack watched patiently from the corner of the trailer. For the first time, he wasn't wearing a suit. He elected to wear a pair of dark wash jeans and a white tshirt that clung to his broad chest but he was still sporting his signature cowboy hat. A beautiful woman named Ginger outfitted you with a nearly invisible earpiece and installed a microscopic camera in the button of your polo shirt. She assured you there was a tiny microphone in the camera and that Jack and the entire team assigned to the case would be watching and ready to jump into action if anything went sideways.

Simple enough, you thought.

"How're you holdin' up, darlin'?" Jack mumbled, pinching your elbow between his fingers as he led you out of the unsuspecting double wide that currently hid Ginger and all her expensive equipment and into his Bronco.

"Uh..." you began, throat suddenly feeling dry when he started the car and turned onto the familiar stretch of road. They had set up a base in the woods about two miles away from the carnival which meant you would be there in less than five minutes. Your head was spinning, the adrenaline suddenly coursing through your veins and making you lightheaded. "Not so great, actually."

He turned his head and studied you for a moment before pulling off the road and throwing the car into park. He shifted in his seat so he could face you, one elbow resting on the back of his seat and the other on the steering wheel. "I ain't gonna let anythin' bad happen to you, you hear me?" You hadn't realized your breathing was becoming more labored and your face felt hot. He was probably just worried you were about to pass out and that's why he reached out to cup the back of your neck, forcing your attention off the carnival peeking through the trees and onto his face. Your gaze lingered on his dark brown eyes and chiseled jaw and hooked nose that looked like it would be perfect nestled between your thighs.

"You promise?" you whispered, tone a little more sultry than you intended. He swallowed and nodded.

"'Course. I'll be right there the whole time. All's you gotta do is tell me where he's gonna be and I'll do all the dirty work," he told you with a wink. Your eyes darkened a fraction, having a completely different idea of what kind of dirty work you'd like him to do before you blinked and snapped out of it. You chalked it up to your nerves but it was too late. He saw it in your eyes and he clenched his jaw, his gaze flickering down to your lips and then to the camera in your shirt before slowly pulling his hand away from the back of your neck.

"What code word d'you wanna use in case you need help and can't say it?" he asked, shifting back into work mode and merging into traffic.

You thought it over for a moment, grateful for the distraction.

"Hot chocolate."

He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "Hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, I don't think it's something I would accidentally say because who the hell would order hot chocolate in this heat?"

He smiled wider. "Fair enough."

Jack dropped you off at the entrance of the carnival, reminding you he wouldn't be far behind and to stay alert. You bobbed and weaved your way through the crowded thoroughfare, the late afternoon sun beating down on the masses as they pushed wagons of children or carried various prizes under their arms while drinking cold lemonade or licking ice cream to combat the heat. You managed to get to the air conditioned office five minutes before your shift started and clocked in before examining the schedule. Jack had warned you the target wouldn't use his real name, so he made you study multiple photos of him the day before. Balding, but a dark horseshoe of hair curved around his head. He had a mustache, too, but not like Jack. The target's mustache was bushy and unkept, but Jack warned you that could have changed. He had a paunchy belly and he was approximately 5'10" but the most notable feature was a wide, pale scar that stretched from his right elbow to halfway down his forearm.

You glanced around the somewhat crowded office. Nobody seemed to fit that description so you focused on the schedule. You were set to work the lemonade stand. One of the more boring jobs, but at least you were with one of your good friends, Stephanie, who was working the candied apple stand next door.

"All good?" you heard Jack's gravelly voice echo through your earpiece. You had no idea how to answer that without looking like you were talking to yourself so you turned to a mirror and gave a quick thumbs up. He chuckled and you had to bite back a smile. "Alright, where are you workin' so I can get set up nearby?"

Again, you weren't sure how to answer but just then Stephanie breezed through the door. You called out her name and waved as she punched in and headed over to you, giving you a sweaty hug.

"We're working together tonight. You're on apples, I'm on lemonade next door," you told her, hearing Jack confirm your location in your ear.

"Awesome, should be a slow night after dinner," she replied, hooking her arm through yours and leading you back out into the busy dirt road lined with vendors and food carts.

As she predicted, you were rather occupied until the sun set and people began to indulge in fried dough and rides, leaving your little section of the fairgrounds quiet. For the first time in hours you glanced around, wondering if you could spot Jack, but he was no where to be found.

"So, did you meet any guys so far this summer?" Stephanie asked you, leaning over her counter and popping her gum loudly between her molars.

"Nah, not really," you replied, feeling the tips of your ears burn, knowing Jack was listening. "You?"

"Just one but he turned out to be an asshole," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "We gotta get out of this town, girl. I swear there's no one good left. I'm either related to them or already dated them and I can't stand any of 'em."

"Yeah, maybe one day," you replied, glancing around again.

"I'm serious. Maybe we oughta make a plan, y'know? Like we always said we would? Ain't you sick of waiting tables?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," you muttered. "But where would we go? We don't know anyone outside of here."

"I got a cousin up north, maybe we can visit her and see how we like it."

For a second you almost forgot the mission when, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a man matching the target's description disappear into the crowd. You squinted but you only saw the back of him and he was quickly getting away.

"Hey, can you cover for me?" you asked, already tossing your apron off and smoothing down your skirt.

"Yeah, sure. Been dead here for the past hour, take your time."

You hustled down the street, pushing people out of the way as you tried to catch up with the man you saw.

"Sugar, I lost ya, slow down," Jack's voice crackled in your ear.

"Can't, I think I saw him," you replied.

"Do not engage, y'hear me?" Jack said sternly. He sounded breathless now, no doubt rushing to catch up with you.

"I won't, I just wanna see where he's going."

You broke through the crowd and swiveled your head from side to side, desperately trying to spot the balding man. Now that you thought about it, he looked like he was wearing the same color uniform you had on. Your pulse raced as you turned around frantically, and just when you thought you lost him you spotted him walking up the steps to the house of mirrors. When he reached out to open the door, you saw the telltale scar and gasped.

"Jack! It's him!" you said, racing through the crowd again, dodging groups of children laughing and eating cotton candy.

"... stay... where are... losin' you-" you heard Jack's voice cutting in and out through your earpiece but the excitement got the best of you and you charged forward into the house of mirrors, the door slamming shut behind you, leaving you in a mostly darkened room. The only sounds you could hear were muffled conversations from families walking by.

"Jack?" you whispered, tapping on the earpiece and taking a few shaky steps forward. "Jack, if you can hear me, I'm in the house of mirrors. He's-"

"Looking for someone?" a man's deep voice said from over your shoulder, making you jump. You swiveled around and tried not to gasp in fear. It was him: Vic Leary, aka The Falcon. It was almost laughable how Jack had been chasing the man for years only to have him directly in front of you after a few hours. He took a menacing step forward and you swallowed tightly.

"Yeah, actually. I'm looking for my friend," you said, taking a small step backwards, a step deeper into the attraction.

"That right?" Vic sneered, taking yet another step closer. "Well I'm the only one here. Sure you ain't looking for me?"

You shook your head vehemently. "N-nope. I'm supposed to meet a friend here any minute, he's meeting me with some hot chocolate," you said the last part loudly and Vic frowned. Then he seemed to piece together that you were bugged or maybe he just saw his opportunity to strike because he lunged forward. Luckily, you were prepared and stumbled backwards out of reach, causing him to fall forward on his hands and knees. You spun around and raced through the dizzying hall of mirrors, Vic's angry curses and threats shouting after you.

The next tunnel had a wall of mirrors that shifted, causing you to feel like the floor was moving. You stretched your arms out and blinked rapidly, stumbling through and glancing over your shoulder in a panic, wondering where he went. It was quiet. His yelling stopped. Did Jack find him?

The next room was a literal maze, the walls and ceilings covered in mirrors, some curved and warped, some jagged and angular. You couldn't think of a worse place to hide and you needed to get the hell out of there.

"Can anyone hear me?" you whispered into your polo shirt, wincing when all you heard was sharp feedback in your ear. You turned a corner, jumping when you saw movement but calmed down when you realized it was your own reflection six times over. You heaved a sigh of relief and took another look around, trying to decide where to go next when a big, sweaty body jumped out from behind a mirror in front of you, tackling you to the ground. You screamed bloody murder and tried to squirm away, but he had you pinned to the ground with a hand around your throat. You scratched and kicked and yelled but it was no use. His fingers gripped the side of your throat and he watched with a sick smile as you struggled to drag in air, all the while clawing at the backs of his hands so hard, you drew blood. And just when you thought you might pass out, a black cowboy boot swung from behind your head and kicked Vic directly across the jaw, making him yelp in pain and fall backwards.

You coughed and scrambled away, clutching your throat and looking up to find Jack, his shoulders and chest heaving and his eyebrows pinched together in fury. Without taking his eyes off Vic, who was cupping his mouth, his hand collecting blood, he asked, "you alright, sugar?"

You could only nod and he told you to wait for him outside, but when you stood and took a few steps back the way you came, you saw Vic stand up and run in the opposite direction, nimbly dodging the mirrors, too familiar with the maze to be slowed down. Nostrils flared, Jack reached for his belt and grabbed a braided piece of leather. His thumb pressed down on a small button and like magic, the rest of the whip unfurled at his side. He then spun it over his head twice before snapping it forward, circling around the target's neck and yanking him back to the ground with a grunt.

Jack disappeared deeper into the maze, his grip tight. You looked over your shoulder, back to the entrance, then groaned and followed Jack. When you rounded the corner, he was towering over the suspect, whip back on his belt, Vic looking like he was knocked out cold. You peered around the last mirror, hiding from view while Jack pressed something on his watch and began to speak to a small hologram of an older looking man with a beard. He was telling him that the suspect was in custody and needed backup while he dug out a pair of metal handcuffs with his free hand.

Jack was distracted and didn't realize Vic had begun to move, but you did. When Jack's back was turned, Vic quietly rose to his feet and pulled out a knife from the back of his pants. He raised his arm above his head, ready to plunge the blade into Jack's throat. You raced forward and swung your leg out, hitting the backs of his knees with your shin and bringing him back down to the ground with a thud before he had a chance to inflict any harm.

Swirling around, Jack ended the call without warning and punched Vic directly in the nose. You heard a sickening crunch of bone and a howl of pain from the man's throat, but just as Jack was about to grab his arms and haul him to his feet, Vic rolled to the side and jumped up with a surprising amount of agility. Jack groaned and reached behind him, pulling out what appeared to be a lasso. He calmly glared after Vic, who was nearly to the exit, while circling the rope above his head. The lasso began to glow an icy blue, mesmerizing you for a moment until he snapped it down with an electric crack, wrapping and pinching the rope around Vic's lower leg.

You couldn't believe your eyes when his leg cleanly and completely severed below the knee. Slapping both palms over your mouth to muffle your screams, you curled up on the floor and watched as Jack approached Vic, who was making noises so pained and fearful that you were certain you would hear them in your nightmares for the rest of your life.

Jack was handcuffing him and warning him he shouldn't have run while the man sobbed pathetically in a pool of his own blood. You just stared, your whole body trembling at the carnage, completely numb. You didn't even hear when three other agents breezed past you to collect the target, followed shortly thereafter by a small cleaning crew wearing protective gear from head to toe. Suddenly the maze, which seemed so massive before, was cramped and making you feel claustrophobic.

His eyes finally met yours once Vic was officially in custody. His expression went from one of relief to one of deep concern when he saw the state you were in and he rushed forward to collect you off the floor.

"Hey, don't look at that," he murmured, but your gaze was still pinned on the blood staining the floor. "Eyes on me, darlin'."

You forced your eyes away from the mess and onto him, like he requested, but you were finding it difficult to breathe. Each inhale was a struggle, like your lungs couldn't expand all the way, and each exhale left your ears ringing.

"Get me out of here, Jack."

He nodded once and helped you stand. With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he ushered you back through the maze towards the entrance. Once you were able to take in a deep breath of fresh, humid air, you started to feel a little better but the adrenaline was still coursing through your body, making you feel like you were practically vibrating.

People streamed past you laughing and joking, blissfully unaware of what just happened while you sat on a nearby bench with your head between your legs. Jack soothingly rubbed your upper back and waited for you to calm down. Your energy was too intense, the vivid images of what you just witnessed too strong and Jack seemed to sense it.

"Here," he said, leaning back and lifting his hips from the bench. Your eyes instantly locked onto his lap, where his fingers began to remove a small flask from his belt buckle. When he handed it to you, hoping the alcohol would help calm your nerves, you just continued to stare, all wild eyed and rabid.

"Have a little, it'll help," he urged while trying to ignore the hungry look in your eye. You blinked slowly and, with shaky fingers, took the flask and unscrewed the top. You winced a little at the burn but a minute later, your stomach felt warm and your muscles relaxed. You handed it back to him and he took a sip himself without breaking eye contact with you, then fastened it back onto his belt. You leaned forward, once again feeling inexplicably drawn to him, and brushed your fingertips lightly over the flask. You were playing with fire and you knew it. His eyes bore into yours with a blazing heat and he whispered, "you need somethin' stronger, sugar?"

You sunk your teeth into your lower lip and nodded. He stood up and grabbed your hand, glancing around the fairgrounds manically, the adrenaline from the past twenty minutes getting the best of both of you, it seemed.

The choices were limited and the closest area with any semblance of privacy was the bathroom and you both seemed disgusted by that prospect because he muttered fuck it under his breath and dragged you off the main road towards the dark parking lot.

Once he reached his Bronco, he twisted around and violently yanked at the buttons on your polo shirt. You yelped in surprise but when he opened his hand and showed you the button he tore off with the camera attached, you nodded. He flung it into the mud and dropped his earpiece, then you scrambled to do the same. Once you were as alone as you possibly could be, he pinned you against the side of his truck and pinched your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to look at him.

"You sure?" was all he asked, pupils blown wide.

You nodded. "Please."

He groaned and crashed his mouth against yours, dropping his hand from your jaw to wrap around the back of your neck. He tasted like Jameson and you imagined you did, too. "Such a polite little thing," he whispered before plunging his tongue inside your mouth and licking past your teeth. You were moments away from unzipping his jeans and letting him take you right then and there when you heard a chorus of laughter from the next row of cars and you pulled away, gasping for air. Jack appeared just as wrecked as you felt, eyes all wild and skin hot with arousal.

"C'mon," he said, as if reading your mind he tugged you away from the car so he could open the door to the backseat. You practically launched yourself inside and by the time you spun around he was slamming the door shut behind him. He gazed at you for just a moment before shedding his cowboy hat and pressing your body into the seat, picking up where he left off. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of leather and gunpowder and his cologne, all ingrained in the fabric after years under his care.

His lips traveled down, grazing against your jaw and nipping at the spot behind your ear. His mustache tickled your skin, making you giggle, and you felt him smile against your throat at the sound. His lips latched onto your neck, sucking a bruise there while your hands dipped underneath the hem of his white tshirt. The fabric bunched up around your wrists the higher your fingers traveled up his torso, reveling in the way the muscles in his back twitched under your touch. Then his hips dropped against yours, resting his weight heavy between your legs, and you sucked in a sharp breath.

"Jack?" you whispered hoarsely.

"Mhm?"

"I-I want you," you stammered when his thumbs brushed over your breasts, nipples hardening through your shirt. "Want you so bad."

"You got me, sweetheart. I'm all yours," he mumbled, teeth scraping gently over your collarbone as he continued to move achingly slow further and further down your body.

You moaned and arched your back, pressing your chest into him. "Jack, I want you now," you tried again, and he clicked his tongue with a smirk.

"Where'd those manners run off to?"

"Please," you groaned. He hoisted himself up, holding his weight above you, the palms of his hands pressing into the seat on either side of your ribs.

"Say it again f'me, sugar. Y'just sound so pretty when you're beggin' for it."

"Please," you whispered this time, then dragged your hand down his stomach, stopping to cup his erection through the thick denim of his jeans. You rubbed the palm of your hand up and down enticingly, drawing a quiet moan from his throat. He hissed and pressed himself into your hand, rocking his hips and watching your fingers work him up and down. "Please, Jack, I need you."

His eyes flashed up to yours once before he sat back on his heels, fumbling with the tiny flask on his belt with an urgency that told you he heard exactly what he wanted to hear. He tossed both items on the floor before undoing his jeans and then, seeming to remember you were still fully clothed, dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt. His palms cupped your ass and squeezed before hooking his fingers around the edge of your panties and tugging them down. You lifted your hips to help, feeling slightly disappointed there wouldn't be enough room or time for either of you to fully undress, but you would make do.

"Goddamn, that's a pretty sight," he groaned when he pushed your skirt up enough to get a good look between your legs. He ran the pad of his thumb through your slit and you began to squirm impatiently. "Now, normally I'd prefer to take my time," he began, and your heart thundered wildly in your chest when he pushed his jeans down and pulled out his cock, hard and leaking. "But it would appear we don't have the luxury today, darlin'." He used one hand to steady your hip and the other to line himself up with your entrance, then you held your breath when he started to press forward, parting your walls and forcing you to stretch around his girth.

"Shit," you whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, that's it," he whispered, watching as he slowly disappeared inside you, only looking back to your face once he was buried to the hilt. "How's that? Feelin' better now?" he asked a little breathlessly. You nodded and forced your eyes to open.

"Feels good," you murmured, licking your dry lips and gasping when he began to move. "Yeah, just like that, faster - please faster," you added hastily when you remembered his comment earlier about manners. The corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk before falling forward onto his elbows. He tugged one of your knees up so you hooked your leg around his waist, spreading your hips wide before feverishly latching his mouth onto yours, muffling your noises when he began to snap his hips faster and deeper.

"This what you needed?" he whispered in your ear. You tightened your arms around his neck, holding him close, the desire suddenly overwhelming to have him completely consume you and keep you in the safety of his arms. "Needed me to fuck you and turn that little brain of yours off for a while? Hm?"

"Yes," you admitted shamelessly. He was fucking everywhere. His mouth was drifting from your lips to your neck to your ear, his hands groping and gliding along your stomach or legs, his cock sliding smoothly in and out, each time catching on that one spot that made you see stars. Even his body heat felt like it was fully encompassing you. And he was right: it was exactly what you needed.

"Christ, too fuckin' good, sweetheart," he breathed, his hips stuttering for a moment before resuming a punishing pace. The way his lips melted against your own while the tip of his cock reached a depth inside you didn't know was possible was making your vision blur and your breath ragged. You were so caught up in the moment that you hadn't yet considered you wouldn't see him again after that night. Nor did you have a chance to realize how long you had been gone from the lemonade stand. Nothing else outside of his car mattered.

"Jack," you whimpered as heat began to lick and wrap around your spine. Your stomach tightened and your mouth was wide open, pulling in mouthfuls of air as quickly as you could. You were so close but you just needed a little more. He was busy pushing your polo shirt up and yanking down your bra, his hot tongue swiping greedily over your nipples one at a time with an appreciative groan before he sunk his teeth into your soft flesh, no doubt trying to leave a mark to remember him by.

"Love the way you say my name, darlin'. Music to my ears."

As if he could read your mind, his had slipped between your bodies and began to thumb at your clit. Your thighs tensed and you cried out, his name the only word your brain was able to conjure up, which, based on his enthusiastic reaction, pleased him greatly. You couldn't stop yourself. Your body began to meet him, thrust for thrust, your hips rolling, matching his rhythm and forcing his thumb to apply more pressure. Before you even had a chance to warn him your orgasm crashed down around you, so powerful and intense that it sent you reeling, his name and a string of unintelligible curses the only thing falling from your lips. And he fucking loved it.

"Oh, look at you," he groaned, "pretty little thing, all fucked out. Goddamn, you're gonna make me come, darlin'." His large hand splayed across your ribs and he stared, slack jawed, at the way your tits bounced from the force of his thrusts. "Shit, shit, shit," he grumbled, his jaw locking as he closed in on his release. "Where, sugar?"

"Inside," you moaned, trying to force your eyes to stay open so you could watch. He clicked his tongue against his teeth and dragged his eyes back up to your face.

"Don't say that."

"Please," you whispered, and you could see his resolve crumbling.

"Fuck," he groaned, then he shifted so he could grab onto your hips with both hands. It didn't take much longer, but each thrust after that was harsh and unforgiving until his body stilled and he came with a broken moan that you made sure to commit to memory. He panted for air and tilted his head back when he was done, his fingers still gripping your waist. An incoming call came through, lighting up the face of his high-tech watch, but he ignored it. Once he caught his breath and he began to soften inside you, he rolled his head forward, gazing down at you in admiration. "You're somethin' else," he rasped, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a half-smirk.

"You sound surprised," you teased.

"I am, but not because of this," he said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against your lips. He slid out of you with a grunt and you sharply sucked in air at the loss. His dark eyes lingered a moment on his spend dripping out of you before gently fixing your bra and top. The sweet gesture made you smile.

"What, then?"

He grinned and tucked himself back in his jeans, then handed you your panties. "You saved my hide back there, brave girl," he murmured, pinching your chin affectionately. "Kickin' his legs out like that. Didn't know you had it in you."

You shrugged and tugged your underwear back on. "I didn't really think about it, he was going to stab you, I had to do something."

He hummed and leaned back in the seat, watching as you fixed your skirt and tried to tame your hair in the mirror before spotting his discarded cowboy hat on the floor. You grinned and picked it up, plopping it onto your head with a giggle. "How do I look?"

"Fuckin' beautiful," he said, making you laugh, "although you're doin' things a little backwards, sugar."

"What do you mean?" you asked, taking it off to see if you put it on wrong. He smiled and gently took the hat from your fingers and put it back on your head.

"The rule is, you wear a man's Stetson, you gotta ride the cowboy, but seein' as we did that already..." he trailed off and you giggled again when you finally understood. "But I suppose it depends on who you ask. Could mean somethin' else, too."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Some say if the cowboy lets the lady wear his hat then he's interested in seein' her again," he said softly, watching as you became flustered at the suggestion.

"Oh," you breathed, feeling your skin heat up under his gaze. Reality slowly began to seep in. Now that Jack found his man, he would go back to wherever he came from and your boring life would go back to normal. But then he hooked a finger under your chin so you would focus back on him.

"Would you like that?"

"Would I ... yeah, of course, but-"

"I heard what you were sayin' to your friend. 'Bout wantin' to move?" he said, dropping his hand and shifting his weight. "What if we had a spot for you at the agency? Maybe doin' somethin' with Ginger, learn the ropes a bit? I think you got potential, sweetheart."

You laughed and shook your head. "I can't do what you guys do, are you serious?"

"You got guts. We can teach anyone how to use a weapon, but guts? That can't be taught."

When it became apparent he wasn't joking, you cleared your throat and glanced out the window. "I don't know..."

"You said yourself you're sick of waitin' tables," he reminded you, then pulled out a white business card and handed it to you. "I know it's a big decision. Think it over and gimme a call." He paused for a moment and a slow smile spread across his face. "But how 'bout you gimme a call either way?"

"Okay," you practically whispered, looking down at the card before shoving it safely in your pocket. He pushed open the door and slid down to the ground, then turned around and held out a hand for you.

You spent the rest of your night thinking over Jack's offer, replaying over and over in your mind everything you learned about the Statesmen in the past week and trying to imagine if that was something you could possibly do. You had pretty much decided it was a stupid idea, that it was dangerous and things like that didn't happen to girls like you, but when you punched in for your shift at the restaurant on Monday and looked around the dining room at the same patrons eating the same food they always did, listening to the same boring gossip and worrying about the same bills that always plagued you, something finally snapped. You tore off your apron and tossed it behind the computer before snatching your purse and walking out the front door without a second glance behind you.

You got into your beat up car and breathlessly dialed the number you had been staring at all weekend, your heart slamming in your chest excitedly. When Jack's familiar drawl answered on the other end, a huge smile spread across your face.

"That offer still stand, cowboy?"

[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.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

We Meet Again In Italy - Eggsy Unwin X Female Reader

Title: We Meet Again In Italy

Eggsy Unwin X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's boss, Random character (Alexandra Winslet), Kingsman (Mentioned), and Harry Hart (Mentioned)

| Part 1 |

WC: 4,186

Warnings: Reader is mentioned wearing a dress/heels/makeup, enemies to lovers, banter, flirting, teasing, very brief mention on abuse, some italics, brief mention of crying, slight angst, and fluff

One word to describe Italy is 'breathtaking,' and that couldn't be more true than it was when you walked through the streets of Rome upon your first day there. Everything about Italy seemed so picturesque and beautiful. But you didn't have time to walk around and enjoy the scenery - no matter how much you would have loved to do so - you were on your mission. After the incident in the bookstore in New York, you were determined to get that file back from Eggsy.

"He's been spotted entering his hotel. Hotel Da Vinci." Your boss spoke to you over your earpiece as you sat in the middle of your large hotel bed. That was actually really nice; you might have to invest in a better mattress when you got home. "A message will come to you shortly with the information, along with the address to the gala he is going to be attending tonight."

Pausing, your hand hovering over your paperwork. "Gala?" You knew Eggsy loved to dance, but still. "Why is he going to a gala?" You asked, picking up the couple of pictures you had of Eggsy in various locations back from when you were tailing him in New York.

"He's meeting someone by the name of Alexandra Winslet. We doubt that is her real name, but that's all the information that we got on her."

"A name and a face is all I need." You spoke up, eyes flickering to your phone as a notification popped up. Picking up your phone from beside you on the bed, you unlock it before tapping your messages, slowly scanning the few pictures and documents that you were sent. Stopping at the picture of the supposed Alexandra Winslet, you hummed, tilting your head to the side. "Purple," You muttered, your eyes immediately going to her hair, which was short, cut to just below her chin; in a shade of violet purple. One thing was for sure, you'd have an easy time spotting her in a crowd. Scrolling further, you stopped at the picture of a mansion, surrounded by a fancy iron gate. "I am assuming that this mansion is where the gala is going to be held?"

You watched as the message bubbles popped up before you were sent the address, "Yes," Your boss then spoke, "It's a black-and-white event. Make sure to keep within the dress code. And get that file back. I don’t want any other issues to arise."

Shutting your phone off, you leaned back against the plush, satin headboard, "Sure thing, boss," You sighed, rubbing your forehead with a hand, you kept your hand there as you shut your eyes, "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"We’ll keep you updated." The line went dead.

Huffing, you opened your eyes, blinking as you checked your watch on your wrist. "Well," You muttered to yourself, clicking off your earpiece as you shuffled off the bed, trying not to crumple any of your paperwork and pictures as you did so. "Time to go shopping, I guess."

And so, you found yourself in Milan, which was the same city where the gala was going to be held. Milan was such a lovely place, full of rich, dazzling architecture, just like the rest of the country; it was also quite famous for fashion, especially among wealthy business people and high society alike. And before you knew it, your small shopping spree was finished. With two large bags looped on your arms, you made your way to your rental, and back to your hotel.

Entering your hotel room, you quickly shut the door, locking it before you sped to the bed and placed your bags down. They weren't hurting your arms with their weight, no, but it was what was inside that was important: your dress. Sliding out the white, paper box, you spied the brand name on the top lid, written in black, curvy font. Carefully, you pulled off the lid, feeling a small rush of adrenaline fill your system as you sat the lid to the side, your eyes zoned in on the black folded dress before you. 

Biting your lip, you tried to hide the large grin that was about to spread on your face as you gently took the fabric into your hands. Without a second thought, and seeing that you were right on time, you began to get ready for the gala.

It was around four once you finished getting ready, dressed to the nines and a hint of excitement ran through you. Staring at yourself in the full-length mirror near the bathroom, you turned every which way, your lips curled upward, feeling completely gorgeous. The dress was all-black, the sleeves were off-the-shoulder, the maxi skirt just brushed the floor, and it was made out of the softest velvet that you have ever felt in your entire life. Once you saw the dress on one of the mannequin models, you knew that you had to have it. Brushing your hands down the skirt, you gave yourself one last look; honestly loving the way your red, painted lips stood out amongst the black.

Turning to the bed, you pulled your message bag over, opened the flap, and pulled out a small, wooden rectangular box. You paused, eyes softening as you opened the box's lid, revealing a simple, gold necklace with a single pendant hanging from it. You smiled softly as you gazed at it, remembering the night that he had given it to you. Turning to the mirror once more, you carefully unclasped the necklace, sliding it around your neck before fastening the clasp behind your neck. As you stared at yourself, you started to wonder what he would think. Would he like it? You bit your lip as your fingers grazed over the gold surface, only to shake your head; you shouldn't be thinking like that. It shouldn't even matter what Eggsy thinks. This was a mission. This was your job, your life. You didn't have time for romance or flirtatious games. Not this time around.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to turn away from the reflection and looked around your hotel room for your shoes. Finding the box of brand-new gold heels near the door of the bed, you picked up one of them and slipped it onto your foot before slipping on the other heel. Standing straight, you looked into your mirror again, fiddling with your hair before you felt your mind slipping back to him. Growing frustrated with yourself, you glared at your reflection.

"Get the file and leave." You spoke, voice stern, "Don't fall for his tricks again... You don't have time for it. You're on a mission, remember?" You muttered to yourself. You shook your head. You could hear his laughter in your ears, see that grin on his face, that glimmer in his eyes... You gritted your teeth. Closing your eyes tight, you inhaled sharply before opening them, pushing those thoughts away. Raising your hand, you turned on your earpiece with two soft taps, "Sir, I'm ready."

~~~

Pulling up to the mansion, you leaned over slightly to look at it through the front view window. You had done a bit of research on the large home before arriving. Villa Mondadori, an Art Nouveau building. Designed by architect Steno Sioli Legnani for the textile entrepreneur Pasquale Crespi in 1897, it consisted of fifteen bedrooms, fifteen bathrooms, various large lounges, and a spa area with a complete gym, cinema room, bar, and terraces. At the small tap on your passenger window, you snapped out of your daze, your eyes landing on what you assumed to be the valet parking attendant.

Stepping out of your car, you handed the valet the keys, giving the young man a polite smile and nod before looking up at the building as you walked up the three steps. The building was three stories, the first level's exterior was almost an ivory color, while the second and third levels were a sort of cream color. What you loved the most were the large windows, large enough to let in all the natural light. You tried to pay no mind to the two guards at the door, walking towards them, holding yourself high and confidently.

"Ciao," You gave them both a charming smile, hoping that either of them would just let you in, as you had planned.

The one guard to your left was tall, well past six feet, and with trimmed blonde hair that was combed to the side. The guard to your right was a bit shorter than his guard partner, though still taller than you, and was far less intimidating, but you took note of his piercing blue eyes and the way his black hair was buzzed close to the scalp. Both men stared at you, observing and analyzing you as their eyes narrowed and their mouths pursed. Before you could ask them if they were going to allow you entrance into the house, the guard on the left cleared his throat, "Buona sera," He said, his eyes slowly looking at you up and down.

You expertly hid your distaste as you replied politely, "Sì, buona sera." You glanced at each of them, expectantly, and finally, they moved aside, allowing you entry into the house. The hallway that led straight ahead was lined with doors, all decorated with lavish designs and intricate woodwork carved into the frames. There were paintings of beautiful landscapes hung along the walls, some of which were covered by black and white, silky drapes. Fit for the gala's theme, you admired it.

Following the live classical music that was echoing throughout the halls, you found yourself in the main room, watching as couples danced together in what you presumed was the living room they converted into a ball-like room. You took a moment to admire the room around you, eyeing the grand, crystal chandelier that hung down, and the large windows that surrounded the room. Taking another glance at your surroundings, your eyes landed on a bar lounge on the far right wall, admiring the beautifully detailed painted ceiling, depicting the Renaissance era. The room was lit up brightly, making the room feel warm and inviting, and you couldn't help but let a small sigh escape your lips; it really was quite beautiful, even though you weren't there to enjoy the party, you were here for that file. That you hoped to god Eggsy brought with him somehow.

Moving with a certain grace, you made your way to the bar, finding a nice place to stand and watch the couples dancing the night away to the live violin, cello, and piano concertos playing from a stage further away from where you were standing. It was a quick dance, the couples stepping closer together as they spun circles around the room; dresses fluttered around their legs. Their movements captivated you.

"What are you doing here?" A voice spoke up, and the corner of your lips lifted when you heard it. Leaning on the counter behind you, you rested your elbows against it as you turned your head to meet Eggsy's confused and astounded gaze.

"Can't a girl go out and have fun?" You asked, smiling coyly as you turned around the face the bar, Eggsy turned with you, his body facing you, his eyes staring at the side of your face; his expression turned from bewildered to something unknown.

As you signaled the bartender, Eggsy finally spoke up once more. "I wasn't aware that you were invited..." His tone lightened some.

"Neither was I." You responded simply as the bartender walked over to you. "Martini. Asciutto." You requested before looking back over at Eggsy coyly. "I sort of just... Invited myself." Smirking slightly, you waited patiently as the bartender prepared your drink. When the bartender was about to give you the drink, you took the drink. Turning to face Eggsy, you kept your eyes on his as you took a sip. You watched as his eyes followed the movement of your mouth, as he swallowed his own drink. Shrugging casually, you looked back up at Eggsy.

"Well now," Eggsy sat down his glass, "Let's not get straight to business. Isn't the view wonderful?" Your eyes roamed around the room, taking in the scenery before you turned your gaze back to the man beside you.

"Quite wonderful," You answered, "You clean up well, Eggsy." You teased, leaning forward slightly.

Eggsy's eyes flashed, a smirk forming across his lips, "You look stunning, as usual, love." His eyes scanned over your form, slowly, drinking you in, "Do you care to dance?" He asked, chuckling softly as he took another sip of his drink.

"Dance?" You replied, taking a sip of your martini as well. Dancing with him couldn't hurt. It would give you an excuse to get closer to him, for the file... Yeah, for the file. He might have it in his inside jacket pocket. Coming quickly with your conclusion, you nodded, setting down your drink and offering your hand. "Just one, Eggsy. And then we talk."

"Whatever you want, love," He spoke, taking your hand in his and leading you to the dance floor, and what timing... The band had begun to play a slow song.

Pulling you close, and with one hand in yours, Eggsy put his other hand on your waist, as you put your extra hand on his shoulder. To the music the both of you swayed, moving from side to side, Eggsy keeping his eyes on you the entire time, as you gazed into his. It was nice, the atmosphere, but the unsaid tension was still there.

"Agent, does he have the file?" You heard over your earpiece, making you huff as you took your hand off of his shoulder to turn off your earpiece.

Eggsy tilted his head slightly, his eyes shining with slight amusement at your annoyed expression before they softened once more, his eyes landing on the necklace that lay around your neck. Without a word, he reached out and lightly brushed his thumb across the surface of the smooth, gold pendant. Your skin tingled as his thumb caressed the top of the necklace gently, his eyes remained glued to the necklace. "I remember that night." He muttered, finally allowing his eyes to stray from the necklace to your eyes. "We were after the same person, back in-"

"Back in Japan. I know." You pursed your lips, looking at him intently, trying your best to keep a calm composure as the memories resurfaced in your mind once more.

Dance, grab, and go. Dance, grab, and go. 

Eggsy mimicked you, pursing his own lips as he stared right back at you. He was studying you. From all the times you and he found each other during overlapping missions - which was quite a few over the years - he knew that you were hiding something. Something deep within. But what? He liked to think that he could read you pretty easily, but even though he had known you for more than four years, you were still a mystery to him. You could be a very good actor if need be. You could hide anything. Hell, there were so many secrets behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. And that's what made you so good at your job, Eggsy thought. You concealed yourself, you didn't let anyone see you; but, there were always traces, tiny cracks, or hints that would show themselves to whomever was looking close enough. Eggsy thought he was lucky enough to see some of those cracks.

Eggsy suddenly realized how close the two of you were standing, with his hand on your waist, pulling you close to him, for a soft sway of a dance. He couldn't help but let himself enjoy this moment, enjoying the way your body felt pressed against his, the warmth that radiated from your skin onto his; seeping, warming his bones, and filling his veins with electricity. The way his pulse pounded in his ears as he stared at your lips, imagining pressing his own against them. He wanted to kiss you. Not just because he wanted to; no. It was more than that. It was a craving, a burning desire he had been fighting since day one of meeting you. Every time he saw you, his heart skipped a beat and butterflies filled his stomach whenever your eyes met - even though he hated how cliche that all sounded in his head - he swore that he was getting addicted to you - he was addicted to you - his whole world became completely focused on you. It was insane. The longing.

If only, in a perfect world, the both of you could go off the grid, away from the espionage and the lies, and just be together. Away from the stress, the fear, the uncertainty. Just be together. But, Eggsy loved working as a spy. It was what his father did before him, and it gave Eggsy a new meaning of life… If Harry hadn’t found him, he probably would’ve still been outsmarting his mother’s abusive boyfriend by now. But you… If you had asked him to quit… He’d quit for you. 

Licking his lips, Eggsy spoke up, "I didn't think you'd keep it." You frowned, slightly, "Your necklace, I mean." He added quickly, his fingers twitching as he tightened his hold on your waist.

"Why wouldn't I keep it?" You raised a brow, "It's cute."

Eggsy chuckled, a grin reappearing back on his face, feeling the slightly awkward tension lifting, "I told you I have great taste.” He then continued, “Now, you never answered my question, love."

"As to why I'm here?" You continued with your response, raising a brow as your hand slid down from his shoulder to rest on his chest. You almost let out a small laugh, biting your bottom lip to stop the smile that was threatening to come out. A wave of fulfillment washed over you, and you felt like a weight had disappeared off of your shoulders. The file, the one that you were looking for, was in his breast pocket. You could tell from just the slightest of pressure that he carefully folded it all to fit into the pocket. "I'm here for that file that you stole from me."

Eggsy chuckled, shaking his head lightly, though you could see what you thought was disappointment in his eyes. "And here I thought you just wanted to see me."

"Who says I didn't also come here to see you?" You smiled, your hand sliding back up to place itself on his shoulder.

"Really, love?" Eggsy asked, raising an eyebrow as he stared at you, trying to discern if you were lying or if this was just some ploy to let his guard down, or possibly trick him into giving you the file... Which he would not do. He'd do anything for you, but giving you the file was not one of them.

You glanced away at the band, "Who's Alexandra Winselt?" You suddenly asked, bringing your voice down into a soft murmur, your eyes once more locking on his. 

"Jealous much, Y/N?" He joked, causing you to roll your eyes before answering him,

"Annoying much, Eggsy?"

Even though it didn't match up well with how slow the song was, Eggsy spun you out before spinning you back in - the hem of your dress swirling around you - before dipping you; your leg instinctively went up against the side of his torso, making him hold your thigh tightly with one hand, while the other was secured around your waist. Looking down at you, it wasn't obvious what he was thinking about, which made it all the more intriguing. And although the music was still playing, you felt the silence in the air.

He pulled you back up slowly, and for a moment, a slight moment, you thought he was going to kiss you. There was this... This look in his eyes was warm - You felt your heart swell - you couldn't figure out if this look he was giving you was new, or if he had ever looked at you like that before. You didn't think he looked at you like that before... Maybe it was in Rio, or Japan the year before, or maybe even in Canada the year before that... Maybe it was in London, where you first met. You were sure, but that look, it was something else.

Dance.

"Eggsy..." You spoke up, cutting the thick tension like a knife through butter, your voice no higher than a whisper - angelic in his ears; you almost felt as if you didn't even say anything, but you were certain Eggsy heard you. 

You felt an overwhelming urge to lean up and kiss him, but instead, you held yourself back from doing so. The moment lasted only for a second but it seemed like hours as Eggsy kept staring into your eyes, trying to determine whether or not to let his desires take control. If only he knew how strong the pull was between the two of you; it was like the gravity between the two of you grew and multiplied, as if you two were drawn to each other by magnets. You both stood, in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by other dancers as the music faded and a more upbeat classical song began. 

“Y/N…” Eggsy raised his hand, tucking a few stray hairs behind your hair, his movements almost trance-like.

And then he was leaning in, and so were you. Eyes heavy-lidded, you felt his hot breath against your face, his nose nudging yours, your lips just brushing his. But you paused, just a hair away from your lips on his, you... You couldn’t do it. Sighing deeply, you shut your eyes fully, your mind and heart fighting against one another as Eggsy opened his eyes, blinking rapidly; confused. 

Grab.

"I'm sorry, Eggsy... I can't do this." You slowly pulled back, unable to look him in the eye, but knowing that his lips were turned into an incredibly perplexed, yet somewhat sad frown. With a hesitant touch, you flatted his lapels before continuing, "I already got what I needed." You then quickly pulled away from him, his arms dropping from your waist as you hurried out of the room, and out of the extravagant mansion.

… And go.

You harshly bit your bottom lip, the back of your eyes burning with unshed tears as you lightly sniffled and sped to your car, blindly and expertly grabbing the keys from the valet attendant. You didn't waste your time speeding out of the lot, and down the road before tapping on the radio. You turned up the volume, your eyes blurring slightly as you drove back to your hotel. You needed to get out of the country, and fast. God, feelings, you hated them. They just complicated everything, and they always hurt. You tried so hard to not fall for him, but every single time he walked into the room, every single time he made your cheeks flush, every single time his eyes met yours and he got that little smile on his face, everything inside of you melted like ice cream on a hot summer day. How was he able to make you feel like this? You had to get out of the country.

Eggsy stood, in the middle of the dancefloor, without you, and though he looked sort of odd standing there all by himself, staring at the floor in a sort of faraway expression on his face, he didn't care. He never really cared about what people thought about him. He felt heartbroken... It was the best word he could think of. Both heartbroken and confused. Why did you leave like that? He was pretty sure that if he left right now, he could have followed you. He wanted to, but... He knew that it wouldn't have worked. You were too independent, and too stubborn - it was two of the many things he loved about you. You had to come to your own conclusions. And he was sure that you had done that. He just wasn't the answer. 

Sighing, Eggsy took a deep breath in and out, his shoulders drooping as he gathered his composure. But he froze once more, feeling his shoulders stiffen again and his eyes widened slightly as he took in a sharp breath. 'I already got what I needed...' Eggsy replayed your words over and over again in his head and he recognized those words. They were the same words he said to you after he grabbed the file from you in New York at that bookstore. His hand snapped up to his right breast pocket. Opening his jacket, he huffed, defeated, dropping his hands to his side. The file was gone. Though, through the heartache, he let a small, fond - and definitely impressed - smile spread onto his face. Yet again, you managed to surprise him. He sighed heavily, running a hand down his face before heading to the bar. He needed a drink.

---

Main Masterlist | Kingsman Masterlist

---

@bethsvrse

[freakrenaissance]

So lovely & romantic! I loved the Christmas dinner scene, too... harry suggesting love actually was too perfect 😅 then imagining him in that ski suit with the chaps? My God. Mercy. 🤤 This was so fab... no clue how i missed this! I wanna read he again rn 😆

A Palomino Christmas

Jack Daniels x f!reader

|| Palomino universe oneshot, out of chronological order as I haven't finished the series yet. Can be read as a stand-alone. ||

{ Fuck Yeah Holidays | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: You spend Christmas at the ranch with Jack. You thought the present you got him was inspired until you see him wearing it - the cowboy way.

Inspired by snowsuit anon and this adorable post (and a super cute nickname for a pony) sent to me by @aynsleywalker.

Warnings: !Ski suit action!, drinking, mention of food, gratuitous descriptions of the male bulge body, dirty talk, safe unprotected sex, feelings so fluffy. These holiday fics are for fun, so not as *rigorously edited* as my regular stories, please forgive any mistakes or plot holes!

Word count: 4.5k

Dedicated to @guiltypleasure-girl who I'm so grateful to have made friends with this year and who, imho, draws the best Jack in all the lands. If you don't already, follow her art page @guiltypleasure-art for the most gorgeous fanart ❤️

It’s always busy in the Stateman’s main kitchen on Christmas morning. The smokey burn of firewood warms the cozy space as the radio blares holiday tunes. Poppy presides over the operations at the head of the table - everything is planned down to the T and everyone has a role.

On any other Christmas day, Jack would be her sous-chef, the one she relies on to keep everyone on schedule and in their place.

But alas, today is not any other Christmas day.

The normally put together cowboy ambles around the place like a headless chicken, leaving a trail of half-completed tasks in his wake. Tequila, in uncharacteristic discretion, follows two steps behind.

He turns off the tap that Jack’s left pouring into the already full kettle, draining the excess water and putting it on the boil.

There’s one slice of bread in the toaster, while another lies forgotten on the table, which Teak slides into the free slot and pushes down the lever.

Jack pulls a jar of pickles from the fridge unseeingly, putting it on the table and walking away in search of a mug under three sets of watching, worried eyes. Teak replaces it with his friend’s favourite strawberry jam without a word.

While the oblivious cowboy’s back is turned, Teak motions his hand and forth across his neck in a slicing motion, mouthing nope emphatically at the occupants of the kitchen table.

On his cue, Poppy clears her throat and speaks up, ‘Jack, sweetie, why don’t you go check on the horses after your toast? The stable boys want to leave work early today after doing their morning rounds.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ he answers absent-mindedly, staring down into the empty mug in his grasp as if he’s lost his train of thought.

At that very moment, the toaster pops and Jack practically jumps out of his skin, stepping on Jameson’s paw where he’s lying on his rug in front of the fire, prompting an indignant yelp from the border collie and winces from around the table.

‘Sorry boy,’ he apologises and picks up his toast - burning his fingers - and stumbling over his feet to set his plate down. ‘Mornin’,’ he nods to the others without really registering who’s there.

Jack proceeds to butter his toast with such singular focus that he doesn’t notice when Tequila fills his still empty cup with coffee, only to knock it over immediately when a phone buzzes and his hand flies out to grab his. Ginger and Poppy trade concerned looks as he jumps onto his feet with another apology, snatching a tea towel to clean up the mess.

Eggsy, on potato peeling duty on the other side of the table, isn’t so diplomatic. ‘You’re jumpier than Bambi this morning, cowboy.’

Jack grunts noncommittally and chews on his toast, not rising to the bait.

‘Don’t be so nervous mate, we promise we’ll be on our best behaviour.’

Teak snorts from the kitchen counter where he’s making his PBJ. ‘I don’t know about England, but around these parts, lying on Christmas day is frowned upon.’

Eggsy replies high-handedly, ‘Can’t speak for you, Tequila, but I’ll be on my best behaviour.’

Ginger chuckles as Teak sits down at the table with his sandwich. ‘Ha! I’ll believe it when I see it.’

Jack points a forceful finger at the boys, one after the other. ‘I swear to the baby Jesus Christ, if you two don’t behave yourselves, there will be hell to pay.’

Eggsy snickers. ‘Never thought I’d see the day. Ol’ cowboy Jack falls heads over heels for a bird -’ he screeches when the coffee-soaked rag hits him in the face, which sends Teak into hysterical laughter. ‘Oi! What the fuck, man!’

Ignoring the ruckus, Jack dusts the crumbs from his hands and shrugs on his jacket, grabbing a thermos and filling it up with fresh coffee. With a hurried later, he strides out of the warmth of the kitchen and into the frigid morning air.

Thermos tucked under his arm, Jack rubs his palms together, warming his fingertips with his breath as snow crunches beneath his well-worn boots. The ranch is blanketed in thick snow, a picture-perfect postcard landscape as it is every Christmas. The morning mist has yet to burn off, but he can tell by the peek of blue through the clouds that it will be a fine day.

If your flight is on time, you should be on your way by now. He’d wanted to pick you up from the airport, but you insisted that there’s no point in him driving all the way there when you already know the way. Depending on the conditions, it shouldn’t be long until you arrive.

His list of chores isn’t long this morning - the stable boys will be on duty until lunchtime - but still, he wants to tick all the boxes before you get here. Striding into the heated stables, he says howdy to the grooms and whistles, smiling as dozens of faces appear at the doors, ears pointed forwards in attention, snickering and whinnying at him.

This never gets old.

‘Mornin’ ladies and gentlemen,’ he calls out, wandering down the stalls, rubbing a velvety nose here and pulling on a furry ear there. ‘Who’s ready to stretch their legs this fine mornin’, huh?’

Starting at the end of the stables, he unlatches Bourbon’s door and ushers him out of the stall, then crosses the aisle to let out Tanqueray, Champ’s elderly but still supremely poised Friesian, who clops leisurely towards the exit. Zig-zagging back and forth, Jack whistles, jostles and chats to the horses, all smartly dressed in warm rugs, as they file out down the corridor and into the courtyard for a bit of morning exercise while the stable boys mucked out their stalls.

‘No loitering, ma’am,’ says Jack sternly when Poppy’s mare, Pie, idles in the middle of the building. He gives her a firm pat on the rump to get her moving and whistles at one of the cheeky Shetland ponies who’s snuck into someone else’s stall. ‘Half-Pint! What did I say about stealing your friends’ treats? Shoo, now!’

The stables empty, the echoes of hooves on the concrete ground fading, with Scotch being one of the last to exit. Looping back to make sure there are no dilly-dalliers, Jack’s surprised to find the palomino, who would normally be leading the charge towards the grazing fields, still lingering at the barn doors.

‘Whatcha doin’, boy?’ he calls out.

Scotch tosses his head and steps to the side -

And you appear.

With the biggest grin, you run towards him and fly into his arms.

Your cheeks are wet, the spray of snow powder melting when it hits your skin. It drifts all around you as Scotch eats up the white ground, the thundering hooves muted by the soft cushion of the untouched, overnight snow. The mountain air is sweet and pure and stingingly cold, you can barely feel your face anymore - but it might just be from how hard you’ve been smiling.

You feel like you’re in the middle of a Christmas movie. The lush, green landscape you remember so well from your trip months ago is now all coated in wintry glory, but you still recognise the contours of the land and the mountains. It’s your first time in the saddle since - the whistle of the winds in your ear is a song you remember all the words to, the burn in your out-of-practice muscles all over a familiar old friend.

And you’re happy.

Slowing Scotch to an easy trot as you approach the end of the trail, your breath mists in front of your face as you look down over the ranch, a scene straight out of a classic snow globe, thin wisps of smoke drifting from the chimneys of the wooden lodges dotted across the property.

Gently manoeuvring the palomino to a halt and giving him a pat on the neck, you turn to smile at Jack as he walks up beside you on Whiskey. ‘I’ve missed this so much.’

‘Me too,’ he answers, warm eyes on you.

You give him a sidelong glance. ‘You’ve been here the whole time, cowboy.’

‘I know. I’ve missed you being here.’ He reaches over and pulls your gloved hand towards him, presses a kiss to the back. You want to shuck off the leather and cup his whiskered jawline in your palm, push the well-worn hat off and twine your fingers into his hair -

Later. There will be time for all that later, preferably in front of a roaring fireplace.

You break the moment with an eyebrow arched in a challenge. ‘Race you to the stables?’

Jack grins. ‘You’re on, darlin’.’

Christmas dinner is in the main lodge, which you didn’t use during your trip in the summer. The intimate space is exuberantly decorated in red and gold, a huge, freshly cut pine tree stands proudly by the antique fireplace, a merry fire burning. The table is beautifully laid, silverware immaculately polished and fine china sit alongside holidays-themed napkins. A magnificent feast lines the length of the mahogany dining table comfortably seating eight.

But any kind of decorum stops there.

As the hours tick by and bottles of wine and sherry are emptied, the meal has descended into what Jack warned you in advance as ‘typical Kingsman chaos’. According to the cowboy, the whole Kingsman team comes to the ranch every summer for their annual company retreat, but only Merlin, Eggsy and Harry fly over for Christmas. And while their contingent is small, havoc is an inevitable conclusion where any number of the Kingsman are involved.

Desserts are still being passed around the table - sticky toffee pudding, pecan pie and Yule log - when Teak and Eggsy start to raise their voices and slap the table about British and American Christmas songs. They’re currently yelling - not singing - carols at each other, with Jameson barking excitedly in the background.

Tequila throws his hands up in frustration at Eggsy’s rendition of Twelve Days of Christmas. ‘Why is there a partridge in a pear tree? What the fuck is a partridge?’

Champ and Merlin are having a more civilised but no less intense debate about pies - specifically mince pies versus pumpkin pie as a holiday dessert.

‘Next year, old chap,’ declares Merlin. ‘I’ll bring mince pies with me and you’ll be eating your words, just you wait.’

Jack whispers in your ear. ‘He says that every year, but never does.’

You chuckle and turn your attention to Harry, who’s now insisting that they should put Love Actually up on the big projector screen after dinner, whereas Ginger and Poppy are lobbying for Elf.

‘Why not The Holiday? It’s literally the perfect American-British movie,' you pitch in, which launches another furious tirade of debate at your end of the table.

Jack mumbles under his breath. ‘Because they’re idiots and pointless, festive arguing is a winter sport around here.’

His arm is warm around your shoulders as you giggle into your mulled wine. ‘Is it like this every year?’

‘Yup,’ he answers, really popping the P. With a mild touch of embarrassment, he holds your amused gaze and asks, ‘Too much?’

Tipping your face upwards, you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

‘Just enough,’ you assure him as the corners of his eyes crinkle in the warmest smile.

You didn’t have time to drop off your suitcase at Jack’s cottage, which is a short drive from the ranch, when you arrived in the morning. Instead, with Champ’s blessing, you commandeered one of the guest cabins, all empty in the off-season - which is just as well. By the time midnight rolls around, it’s clear that no one is in any state to make their way back to their respective off-site houses.

Harry and the ladies retired to their borrowed rooms a little while ago, leaving you and Jack to round up the stragglers. You check on Teak, lying face down on the sofa, bundled up in his winter quilts in an aborted attempt to leave. A few steps over, you drape a blanket on Champ and another one on Merlin, who are passed out on armchairs which look comfortable enough to sleep in, socked feet up on matching ottomans. Eggsy is cuddling with Jameson in front of the fire, and Jack feeds the logs to make sure it burns till morning.

It’s bleak outside. Jack shields you from the worst of the winds, tucking you into his side as you trudge across the snow, the early start you’ve had catching up on you. Thankfully, the heating is already on in the cabin when you get there, and he starts a fire as well while you get ready for bed.

When you pad into the bedroom in your pyjamas, teeth brushed and makeup washed off, Jack looks up to see you holding a neatly-wrapped present, a shy smile on your lips.

Standing up from the fireplace, he dusts his hands and reaches for you, palms settling on the small of your back, leaning down to graze his still cold nose against yours. ‘Is that for me, darlin’?’

‘Maybe,’ you reply coyly. ‘Do you want to do presents now or tomorrow morning?’

‘Let’s do it now, I have to feed the horses early tomorrow,’ answers Jack, pecking you on the cheek. ‘Give me five minutes.’

The bed is cold, and you have to steel yourself to burrow into the icy cocoon of the thick covers, missing Jack’s warmth. He doesn’t make you wait long, re-appearing in just boxers, and a big box in hand, switching off all but the bedside lights.

Sliding under the duvet, he yelps when your icy feet tangle into his longer legs, making you laugh. His bare skin heats you up instantly as he wraps one arm around you and pulls you into his broad chest. You feel him hum when he asks, ‘You want to go first, darlin’?’

Blinking up at him, you answer nervously, ‘No - you first.’

He pushes the box your way and you sit up, pretending to shake the package to gauge what’s inside. Jack chuckles, his strong forearms dark against the beige quilt wrapped around his middle. Only his fingers give away his nerves, picking at loose threads in the fabric as you carefully unravel the wrapping paper.

Lifting the lid of the box, your lips part and you stare wordlessly at what’s inside.

‘Jack,’ you breathe. ‘It’s beautiful.’

Gently, you pull out the cowboy hat in tan suede, the smell of fresh leather comforting as you turn it over in your grasp, marvelling at the craftsmanship in the dips and swells of the construction.

‘Try it on, darlin’,’ he says, his shoulders relaxing in relief at your reaction.

You do, and of course, it fits perfectly. Shuffling onto your knees, you crawl closer to kiss him fully on the lips, tilting your head to the side so that his face fits under the brim of your hat. ‘Thank you, I love it.’

Jack arches an eyebrow. ‘You might want to check the box again, darlin’.’

Sitting back on your haunches, you send him an almost accusatory look. ‘You can’t give me two presents, cowboy.’

He shrugs with an insolent grin. ‘I’m a grown man, I’ll do what I like. ‘

Your eyes alight on the black velvet case at the bottom of the box, and you draw it out with careful fingers as if it will break. With one last glance at Jack, you gingerly lift the lid, feeling the hinges creak.

Jack watches you closely, his own breathing suspended as you stare down into your hands, thoughts whirring in his head. Is it too much, too soon? Is he comin’ on too strong? Would you even like it?

After the longest ten seconds of his life, you look up at him with soft eyes and brows drawn, a crack in your voice. ‘Jack.’

He gives you a lopsided smile and reaches for the box. ‘I went back to the same silversmith who made my belt buckle and asked him to make this.’

The chain is delicate in his big, weathered hands. It takes him a couple of tries, but he eventually manages to pry open the hinge of the clasp and holds out the necklace towards you in a question. ‘May I, darlin’?’

Turning around, the bed dips behind you as Jack shifts closer, cool silver kissing your décolletage as he fastens the clasp behind your neck. Your gaze drops downwards, the tip of your index finger testing the weight of the solid sterling pendant in the shape of a flask, Statesman emblazoned in delicate lettering -

A much smaller but exact copy of his belt buckle.

His words draw you out of your thoughts. ‘You like it?’

‘I love it,’ you correct him, twisting around to tackle him into the mattress, your knees around his waist as you loom over him, knocking off your hat so you can kiss him properly. ‘It’s perfect. Thank you.’

The pendant dangles from your neck, tickling him on the chin as he winds one big hand into your hair, his eyes following as it sways. ‘It looks good on you, darlin’.’

The warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest starts to recede as your eyes land on the present you got for him on the bed. The giddiness you felt when you found it is a distant dream, instead, anxiety threatens to take root deep in your head. If you got something from Amazon tonight, is there any chance that they could deliver tomorrow -

‘Darlin’. You’re thinking too loudly,’ says Jack soothingly, chucking you gently under your chin. ‘What’s wrong?’

You shake your head. ‘I got you a really stupid present. Let’s forget about it - I’ll get you something else.’

His brows draw together in concern as he grabs your wrists and pulls you flush against his chest so that there’s nowhere else to look but at him. ‘Don’t say that, there’s no such thing as a stupid present. Whatever you got me, I’m sure I’ll love it.’

You inhale deeply, chewing your bottom lip. ‘You mentioned a few weeks ago that your leather jacket and fleeces are too bulky and it’s hard to move around in all the layers when it's cold.’

He nods encouragingly. ‘That I did.’

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you reach out and drag the package towards him. ‘Well, I saw this at my local shop, and thought it might help.’

Jack gives you a reassuring smile and leans back into the pillows, grabbing the present excitedly. He pulls you against his side, as if he’s trying to squeeze all the self-doubt out of you, the gift draped across your laps as he starts to unwrap it.

You’re a bundle of jitters when he rips off the wrapping paper with impatient fingers, and the lightweight and puffy blue fabric comes into view.

Jack shakes out the neatly folded one-piece. ‘Is it - a ski suit?’

You nod and point out the black contrasting detailing on the front of the suit. ‘It's light and it's warm. Look at the western design with the single point pockets - I couldn’t not get it for you.’

Jack chuckles, the sound warming you as his arm tightens around your shoulders. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. So simple, yet so clever.’

‘You like it?’ you ask in the smallest voice.

‘I love it,’ he grins, drawing you in for another kiss. ‘Thank you, darlin’.’

Finally assuaged, you sag against him, a yawn creeping up on you as the tension in your body recedes. ‘You want to try it on now?’

Tucking you in, he says, ‘I’ll try it tomorrow, it’s been a long day for you, darlin’.

Putting your hat and his ski suit on the bedside table, Jack turns off the light, his body immediately seeking out yours under the sheets, claiming every inch of you with a leg between your thighs, front plastered to your back, palms under your ratty pyjamas top, splayed across your naked skin.

It’s been too long.

Nose tucked behind your ear, his arms full of you - finally here after months of feeling your phantom weight in his embrace - the night slips away as the snow falls outside.

It’s too warm under the covers when you wake up, even though Jack’s side of the bed is empty. You stretch lazily, the clock reads 8am but the fire is still going strong, he must have stoked it when he got up.

You decide to make some coffee and wait for him to come back before venturing to the communal kitchen for breakfast. While the water boils, you smile as you fiddle with the necklace sitting on your chest, warm and reassuring against your skin.

The smell of caffeine fills the cabin as you sip from your mug, and before long, you hear Jack stomping up the stairs, humming a country tune in his raspy baritone as he approaches the door.

Pouring him a steaming cup, you say, ‘Hey, I made you some coffee -’

You trail off when you turn around.

Your morning brain can’t quite grasp the picture in front of you. Jack’s still wearing his cowboy hat, his nose red from the cold. Vaguely, you realise he’s wearing the present you gifted him - and you congratulate yourself on the fact that it fits him like a damn glove.

The ski suit accentuates his broad shoulders and tapers in at his waist in a flattering cut, the zipper drawn all the way up to the hollow of his throat. He’s replaced the detachable belt that came with the ski suit with his own, the flask bottle buckle popping against the blue.

But the bottom half - that you have trouble comprehending. It takes you a beat longer to realise why.

He’s wearing full-length cowboy chaps over it.

Chaps are essentially leather trousers with the seat cut out, and Jack's wearing them with his belt looped through the straps. You know he only uses them when it’s muddy, to keep his jeans clean. He didn’t wear them at all on your pack trip, but you’ve seen a peek on Facetime in the rainy months in between. And now that you're seeing them in person, you decide that like them - a lot.

Your gaze, slow as molasses despite being completely unburdened by shame, slides all the way down to the triangle of blue framed by the negative space in the brown chaps where - for the lack of a better expression - his prominent endowment hangs heavy at the apex of his strong thighs. Not that you’re trying to look, but you can see the very heft of him through the fabric.

Jesus H. Christ. It’s too fucking early to be sinning.

When Jack realises that you’re staring, he says somewhat apologetically, clearly oblivious to the merry tangent your mind has gone off on. ‘Sorry, I know I’m not meant to wear it this way, but I didn’t want to get it dirty -’

You shake your head hastily. ‘No, it’s not that. It’s - perfect.’

Something breathless in your tone catches his ear, and he tilts his head to the side, one large hand coming to rest on his hip, thick fingers spread obnoxiously wide over the side of the chaps. The beginning of a cocky smile lifts the corner of his mouth. ‘Yeah, darlin’? You like it?’

Leaving your mug on the counter top, you bite your lip and give him your best teasing grin. ‘Why don’t you turn around so I can take a better look, cowboy?’

He arches an eyebrow at your boldness, but decides to indulge you. Voice dropping an octave, he rasps, ‘Better take a seat for this, darlin’.’

You grin and do as you’re told, turning the kitchen chair around so that you’re facing him, running your eyes up and down his frame as he steps into your space, narrow hips swaying to a beat you can’t hear. Hooking his thumbs into his belt, he suddenly turns with a dramatic flourish and arches his back, granting you an unrivalled view of his behind framed by the chaps cut off at the top of his thighs, the ski suit tight against his pert bottom.

‘Enjoy the view, darlin’?’ he asks, grinning over his shoulder at you.

You swat him on one cheek playfully, and when he swoops suddenly into your lap in a classic burlesque move, you squeal, ‘Jack!’

Bending his knees, he grinds into your thighs as you laugh, the ski suit soft on your skin while the leather chaps scrape against your bare shins. Turning around, he reaches up to tug the suit’s zipper downwards in a slow, deliberate course, and he purrs, ‘What say you if ol’ cowboy Jack gives you a proper show, hmm?’

You inhale sharply as the white wife beater underneath comes into view, and you reach up to help him push one side of the ski suit off his shoulder, revealing the firm line of his left arm.

‘Thought that was more of Teak’s thing,’ you quip, licking your lips as your eyes skim down his front to settle on the weighty bulge now straining against the front of the suit, your eager fingers pulling him closer by his belt buckle.

Gripping the edge of the table, he traps you into your seat, his stare dropping to the matching pendant resting on your now heaving bosom, taking in your blown pupils as he grins. ‘Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’

‘Aren’t I the luckiest girl,’ you muse, taking off his hat and flinging it onto the table, his hungry stare alone pinning you in place when you drag him down to you by his lapels.

Warm lips part yours and he delves into your mouth, kissing you deeply. The promise of more leaves you chasing him as he draws back with a drawl. ‘You’re about to get a whole lot luckier, darlin’.’

The thick material of the ski suit is almost pillowy as your fingers dig into his shoulders to steady yourself. It rubs gently on your nipples as you rock against Jack, arms wound around his neck while his desperate hands cup and knead the plump swell of your ass, dragging you up and down his hard cock.

‘That’s it, you’re ridin' me beautifully, darlin’,’ he growls into your ear, exhaling hot and heavy as he nips your collar bone. ‘Missed you so much.’

His chaps are slippery under your bare thighs from your slick, and you clench at the sensation of being completely naked on top of him when he’s still fully clothed, only his belt and zipper undone so that he can fuck up into you, the rickety kitchen chair groaning under the weight of the two of you.

‘Missed you too,’ you whisper against his lips, crying out when he hits a particularly deep spot inside you. ‘Yes, yes, harder, Jack.’

Leaning forward, he takes one breast into his hot mouth, one eye on your necklace that’s sticking to your sweaty skin before licking you between your tits and over the silver pendant, the salt sharp on his tongue. He hums, ‘You wear it so well.’

‘I won’t take it off, ever,’ you swear, throwing your head back when he scrapes his teeth against the column of your neck, so full of him that your knees quake.

‘Good,’ growls Jack, thrusting harder into you, making your breath stutter. ‘Keep me with you, darlin’ - always.’

You smile, fingers curled into his hair, stealing a tender moment as your noses bump and eyes meet with the easiest promise you will ever keep. ‘Always.’

Notes: Am I allowed to pick favourites? I'm not? I'm doing it anyway -- this is my favourite out of all the holiday fics, no question! I'm so soft for cowboy Jack and his darlin' 🥹 We've been spending time with just the two of them so far in the series, so it was really fun to explore the group situations, especially with the Kingsman involved!

I hope you enjoyed this fluffy interlude. Wishing you all a very merry Christmas and thank you so much for reading ❤️

[epicrainbowsheep]

I have some ideas for fanfic, since people seemed to like average-sized dick Billy 😂 wanted to ask fellow fanfic readers what you wanna see written that's normal but rarely gets written about aka like normal sized cocks rather than pussy splitting massive dicks 😂

These are the ideas I already have:

• Eddie Munson: Blowjob where the cum is disgusting, taste from drugs, alcohol and smoking (can confirm this has happened to me... It ain't nice)

• Agent Whiskey: Chick with small tits

• Joel Miller: Reality of men's libido when older

• Dieter Bravo: What mixing drugs and alcohol can do to your libido, cocaine + weed + alcohol = Not being able to cum/ able to fuck for an hours (don't ask why I know this 😅)

Any ideas given by peeps will be credited if I ever write it 😘

[lady-pug]

if we could wake up

Chapter I of Wouldn't It Be Nice

Summary: You sustain a head injury while on a mission but Whiskey isn’t fast enough to administer the alpha gel, so your memories of your time at Statesman don’t come back. Instead, you only remember up until the day before you were recruited and your memory ends up being reset every night. Jack makes it his mission to make you fall in love with him everyday (50 First Dates AU)

Pairing: Jack Daniels | Agent Whiskey x Reader

Word count: 1,1k

Warnings: major head injury (bullet to the head, but it's reversed using Statesman technology), memory loss

Notes: Hello dearest readers, it is I. I bring thee something that has been sitting among my WIPs for over two (I kid you not) whole years. I’ve had chapters one and two of this story completely ready stored in my files alongside all my other WIPs and simply never remembered to publish it FOR OVER TWO YEARS! Shame on me, wtf. Which makes me quite sad because it was one of my favorites to work on when I first came up with this idea. But anyways here it is.

I distinctly remember having come up with the idea for this after watching ‘50 First Dates’ four times in the same week (if it wasn’t clear by now this is my all time favorite rom-com) and thinking it fit right up with this cowboy right here.

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this story, and if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

Next part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Bullets were flying, coming from everywhere. Whiskey could barely look over the cover he was hiding behind before someone was shooting at him.

“Ginger!” he screamed into the earpiece “Cider’s down!”

“What happened?” he heard the static voice of Agent Ginger Ale, or as her friends liked to call her, Elizabeth or Liz, over the comms.

“Dunno. Some goons are shooting at us. She just went down.” he ducked again after failing to locate his partner “Can’t even find her. Probably shot at.”

“Get to her immediately. If she got hit in the head you need to administer the alpha gel as soon as possible!”

“I’m trying here, Ging! Ain’t as easy with twenty guys aiming at your head.”

“Use one of those stunning bombs I made you.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to use those prototypes yet.”

“That’s all you got now!” he could tell Ginger was becoming agitated “Just do it, Jack!”

He did just that. Picking up one of the stunning bombs in his pocket he threw it as hard as he could towards the barricade. A loud, piercing sound erupted almost immediately, hurting his ears even from where he was. Poor goons, he thought. With his ears still ringing, he took off using his whip and lasso to take out the men one by one.

Once the place was clear and no other enemies could be detected, he ran towards the place he last saw you. Where you had gone down. He came to a halt, however, his heart dropping to his stomach when his eyes landed on your slumped form, a bullet hole on your temple and blood covering the ground.

“Shit, Ging! They blew her brains out.”

“Administer the gel, quick! It’s been way too long already.”

He fumbled with the equipment, almost dropping the roll of gel, before he quickly placed  it over your face, making sure to cover the wound.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you. Ging is going to fix your pretty little head in no time, yeah?”

The gel inflated and seemed to be doing its job. 

“Ginger, the gel’s been administered. What now?”

“I’m sending a rescue team your way. Try keeping her head slightly elevated.” she said “And Jack? She’s going to be okay.”

Jack nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. He moved around and propped his back against a tree, his legs extended in front of him. As carefully as he could, he dragged your body, laying your head on his lap, running his fingers through your hair.

“You are going to be fine, sweetheart. I promise.”

The following hours were amongst the longest of his life. Jack would even go as far as to say it was almost as long as the hours he went without any news from his wife the day she had died. As soon as the plane landed on the tarmac, a gurney was ready to take you, rolling you to Ginger’s lab.

She wouldn’t allow him to go inside. The machine you were currently hooked onto had nanoparticles working on your brain to regenerate your neurons, astrocytes and neuroglia, or something sciency he couldn’t quite understand. He was in absolute agony not knowing how you were.  

Finally, after what seemed like weeks, Ginger finally walked out of the lab. He scrambled to his feet from where he was sitting slumped against the wall in front of the lab’s doors.

“How is she?” he blurted out.

“Stable. But the damage to her brain was extensive. And the alpha gel wasn’t administered within the correct window of time.”

“Shit, Liz- I- If I had gotten to her quicker…”

“Hey, hey Jack” she laid a hand on his shoulder “It’s not your fault. There were 23 men shooting at the both of you. Our entire elite squad couldn’t take them all out that quick. You did all you could.”

He sighed, only half believing her.

“What does that mean to her?”

It was Ginger’s turn to sigh.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll only be able to assess the real extent of the damage once she wakes up.”

His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Why don’t you take a shower, maybe try taking a nap? I’ll wake you up if anything changes.”

He nodded, actually wanting desperately to clean up now that Ginger mentioned it, but already knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink until he knew you were safe. 

Jack walked slowly back towards his quarters, almost dragging his feet into the shower. The water seemed to sooth his aches, but not his worries. He couldn’t get the image of your form, suddenly dropping lifeless, out of his head. Everytime he closed his eyes that scene replayed in the back of his eyelids like some sick, twisted film.

He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t lose another person he- shit, did he love you? You have been partners for years now, always had each other's backs. You were one of the few people he truly trusted, someone he felt comfortable enough to open up and be vulnerable. To be himself. Recently, he’s started feeling something more than just the friendship you’ve nourished for the past years. He felt the urge to protect you, even though he knew for a fact you could look after yourself. He wanted to kiss you goodnight and wake up next to you the following morning. So did he love you? 

Yeah. Yeah, he did. He knew that now. And he couldn’t lose you.

Laying on his bed, his hair was still wet from the shower when Ginger pinged him. He was out of bed and halfway across the base in the blink of an eye. He couldn’t remember running that fast in years. Bursting through the door of the lab, he found you sitting on one of the pristine white beds, Ginger in front of you holding a clipboard.

“Sweetheart…”

Both you and Ginger looked at him with wide eyes. Ginger walked around your bed in his direction.

“Whiskey, wait-” but he didn’t listen.

“Sweetheart, thank all things sacred, you’re okay!” 

He rushed forward, wrapping his arms around you in the tightest embrace you two had ever shared. He pulled back, hardly noticing the way you stiffened in his embrace, cupping your cheeks so he could look into your eyes.

“Jack-” he faintly registered Ginger’s voice behind him, but he didn’t truly care. All he cared about was that you were safe. That is until you opened your mouth to talk.

“I’m sorry,” you smiled politely at him “but who are you?”

[asterias-record-shop]

Hyiaa!! If these prompts are still free can I please request

BINGO: Bimbo , Eggsy Unwin with the prompt

"I like having you covered in me. Smothered in me, full of me. Want all of you, and you need all of me." ?

Thank you for your time!

—𓆩[your majesty]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Eggsy Unwin x Fem! Princess! Bimbo! Kingsman Agent! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, maybe slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.6K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Eggsy truly didn’t know how you were recruited into Kingsmen, but he wasn’t complaining. You helped him out a lot during training, but for fucks sake, were you blind to how Charlie and his friends looked at you? When you go missing, though, Eggsy has to save you. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - foul language and cursing || reader is portrayed as very naive and kind of an airhead || reader is portrayed as wearing tight and revealing clothes and likes makeup || sex positive reader || again, kinda ditsy || you’re an undercover spy princess now || you get kidnapped || edited timeline || lovesick eggsy || smut || fingering || masterbating || different positions || multiple rounds || size kink || cum kink || marking kink || rough sex turned soft sex ||

“Your mission,” Merlin spoke as you handed Eggsy, Roxy, and Charlie. “Is to win over the asset shown in the folder. And when I say win over, I do mean biblically.”

Eggsy smiles, opening and showing off the picture. “Easy. Posh girls love a little rough.”

Charlie scoffed, showing the exact same image. “We’ll see about that.”

Roxy giggled. “We certainly shall.”

“Yep! Mhm, sex! You need to fuck her,” you filled in, Charlie scoffing a slight laugh as Merlin smiled slightly and nodded. “Nicely! She’s an heiress.”

“Yes, Y/N, I’m sure they are aware she is an heiress,” Merlin spoke, a sheepish smile developing on your lips. “Anyways, you will be going to the club-”

“Oh, I love clubbing!” You say, Merlin looking over at you with a slight raise of his brows. “O-Oh I’m sorry… I’ll be quiet now.”

Eggsy smiled slightly as he stared at you, but his stomach twisted slightly at the thought of sleeping with someone else. Eggsy was faithful, he always was no matter what, and to be honest, he wasn’t very excited about sleeping with someone else when he wanted to be sleeping with you – both sexually and when he woke up.

“Anyways, you leave at 2200. Please be ready by then. Y/N, come with me.” Merlin smiled at you as you nod, smiling back.

“Yes, Merlin.”

As you both walked out, Eggsy quickly ran after you before Roxy could say anything. “Y/N! Y/N, wait up!”

“Oh, uhm,” you looked back at Merlin who nodded slightly, walking away as you turned. “What’s up, Eggsy?”

“I-I uhm… just wanted to talk to you real quick,” he whispered, looking back at the other two with a slight sigh. “If uhm… If I don’t go past this session-”

“You will,” you say, giggling. “I’m sure a rough boy like you can handle your liquor. And you’re very loyal too!”

Eggsy paused, tilting his head. “Loyal?”

You froze, humming. “Forget I said that. Anyways. Like you were saying?”

Eggsy cleared his throat, swallowing. “If uhm… I wanted to say that when I sleep with this girl,” he ignored your giggle. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I’m aware,” you say with a shrug. “I had to sleep with a pair of guys, but not for the initiation part. The initiation part was actually easier than sleeping with those guys, how are you gonna be a crime lord with a small dick…”

He smiled as you continued to ramble off, his eyes slowly trailing over your pretty face all the way down to your tight clothes and perfect body, round and soft in every perfect place, and the thought of having your thighs around his head truly was a dream.

“Oh, I am so sorry… you had a question, what was it?” You tilted your head, smiling at him.

“I-I uhm… I just wanted to ask if after this session… if you would want to go out with me? On like… a real date?” He whispers, tilting his head slightly as you gaped at him.

“R-Really? You want… you want to take me out on a date?” You whisper, eyes narrowing. “Why? I have nothing to do with the choosing process.”

“I’m not trying to get points for the choosing process,” Eggsy clarified immediately, taking a step closer toward you. “I just… I want to take you out to see if we could… go out together as a couple.”

You paused, swallowing. “Oh…” you looked back at Merlin who was tapping on his tablet, then turned around with a nod. “I would like that. I would like that very much.”

“You would? Good. Good, perfect,” he smiled widely as you inhaled, smiling. “Go. I’m sure Merlin needs something important.”

You smiled, nodding as you leaned forward and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek. “I can’t wait.”

Eggsy smiled widely as you walked off, turning around to see Charlie and Roxy staring at him. “Did you just ask Y/N out on a date?” She spoke, tilting her head. “Really?”

You didn’t have a code name because there was no point. You were already known to the world, Princess Y/N who was the face of her kingdom, perfect in every way, though slightly naive – it didn’t make one bit of a difference to Eggsy. He truly, truly wanted to see how far he would get with you, and just maybe he would get you to the altar.

Right when they were about to leave, Eggsy noticed you in the corner, staring at yourself in the mirror as you flattened out the sides of your dress. For fucks sake, you looked absolutely stunning. Perfect in every way, the dark blue dress pooling at the floor as you slowly turned in the mirror.

He wasn’t used to seeing you in such a dark color, but you looked just as beautiful in it as you did any other color.

He couldn’t speak for a minute, but when it finally came to mind, all he could say was, “Wow.”

You looked over immediately, smiling as you walked toward him, heels clicking. “Going undercover,” you whisper, then shrug. “Kind of.”

“Well, I wish you luck,” Eggsy whispered back, trying to keep his eyes on yours and not trail over your body like a pervert. “You look… so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Eggsy, really,” you smiled back at him as he looked down at his clothes, completely underdressed compared to you. “You look great too.”

“You don’t have to lie, love,” he laughed slightly, embarrassed. How could he think a pretty girl like you would want to be with him? “W-Well… good luck on your mission. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“I could come to the barracks tonight,” you suggest, shrugging. “It’ll just be you and someone else anyways. I’ll bring you to my room.”

Eggsy smiled. “That sounds perfect, Y/N. Good luck, I’ll see you later.”

“See you, Eggsy.” You smiled as he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before slowly turning around and walking off.

After he finished his initiation sequence, he waited in the barracks, reading a book as he slowly stroked JBs back, waiting for you to come in and take him back to your apartment for the night.

“Eggsy? Are you waiting for Y/N?” Roxy spoke, Eggsy looking up with a slight sigh.

“I was, yeah,” he whispered, shaking his head. Tomorrow was his day with Harry, and he couldn’t have thoughts of you interrupting it. “But I’m going to go to sleep now.”

“Oh, okay. Goodnight, Eggsy.”

“Goodnight, Rox.”

When morning came and Eggsy walked toward Harry who was speaking with Merlin, he inhaled as he heard your name on the TV. “Princess Y/N has been missing for three days now, gone and we haven’t been able to locate her since.”

“Y-Y/N’s missing?” His voice came out broken and hoarse, Harry turning around with a slight sigh.

“She didn’t come back from her mission last night,” Merlin says, shaking his head. “Y/N is a strong girl, she can handle herself. Now, go enjoy your day and we’ll keep looking for her.”

Oh, and then everything stacked up. With you missing, Harry being fucking murdered, figuring out that Arthur was with Valentine the entire time, he was so fucking tired. Now, about to die from Valentines dumbass soldiers, he couldn’t stop thinking about you — until the microchips came to mind.

After telling Merlin about the microchips, he could’ve sworn he heard your voice.

“Eggsy! Eggsy, is that you?!”

He quickly turned around, at this time ignoring the announcement that Valentine said and storing it for later, gasping when he saw you. “Y/N! You’re here!”

“Yes I’m here!” You giggled, sighing. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come back and-”

“Don’t worry about that now, darling, what matters is that you’re safe,” he smiled as you leaned forward, pushing yourself closer to the opening, Eggsy doing the same before he heard Merlin’s voice.

“Hate to interrupt this lovely moment, but the fate of the world is about to be decided, Eggsy!”

Eggsy sighed as he pulled away, shaking his head. “As much as I’ve always wanted to kiss a princess, my darling, but I have to go save the world.”

You smiled, giggling. “You save the world, you can get me pregnant.”

Eggsy paused, blinking before nodding slightly. “I’ll be right back.”

You laughed, biting your lip slightly as he ran off. “Good luck!”

And as soon as he said his wicked last line to Valentine, he was already running to your cell and tried to open the door. He heard your laugh when it didn't open, clearing his throat. “Merlin, what’s the code?”

Merlin laughed and told him, Eggsy smirking as he slipped off his glasses and slowly walked in, holding back a loud groan when he saw your legs spread and your fingers working your cunt as you groaned loudly. “Fucking finally Eggsy, what took you so long?”

He laughed as he set down the champagne and the champagne flutes on the table, slipping off his tie before you pull your fingers out of your cunt and quickly moved to your feet, stumbling slightly before falling into his chest. “Are you alright, darling?” He laughed slightly as you giggled.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just… need you. So bad. Gotta hold up my end of the deal,” you tilted your head, winking up at him with another giggle. “You gotta put a baby in me, Unwin.”

He groaned loudly as he easily lifted you up, moving you back to the bed and dropping you gently onto the bed. He watched as you quickly parted your legs, sighing as Eggsy kicked off his shoes – carefully of course – taking off his suit before you leaned forward and held his tie. “Keep this on.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” he whispers, slipping his button down off from under his tie that you immediately took hold of and pulled him down. He leaned down, kissing you and savoring your lips on his as you moved your legs to wrap your legs around his waist. “For fucks sake, never thought I’d be kissing an actual princess.”

You giggled as he pushed down his slacks, pulling him down for another kiss and rutting your hips into his. “Oh please, please… just forget about the fact that I’m a princess and just fuck me. Not like a prince, I need that roughness.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” he whispers back, smiling as he watches you slowly lay back. “Are you sure you want it rough? Darling, I-”

“I’m a princess, Eggsy, just not one made out of glass,” you whisper back, smiling. “Fuck me, Eggsy, hard.”

Oh, you truly didn’t have to tell him twice.

He was quick to snap his hips into you, groaning loudly as your head tilted back, leaning down to tuck his face under your chin. His hips moved rough and quick, fucking into you like he was infatuated. In a way, he was, his mind blurring in pleasure as moans unconsciously fell from his lips, your cunt tight and perfect around him.

His cock was perfect inside of you, just the right length but heavy on the girth, thick and filling you up just right and absolutely fucking perfect. You gasped as you tilted your head back, savoring the feeling of him inside of you. Even with his strong and rough thrusts, he was still holding himself back, and you could feel it every time he held back from slamming his pelvis into yours.

It makes you take matters into your own hands, easily pushing him over and straddling his hips. “I said that I want rough Eggsy,” you whisper, placing your hands on his perfectly toned chest, roughly rolling your hips as you threw back your head. Oh, it was finally perfect. You could feel him in all of the places you desperately wanted him to be, letting out a loud groan as you rut your hips roughly into his. “I don’t want you to hold back, please, Eggsy.”

He groaned, his head tilting back just like yours, his hands automatically finding your hips to help guide you into his hips. Sadly, they were trying to get you to go slower. “Fuck, darling, don’t do this to me. I don’t want to hurt you, please baby-”

“I want it to be rough,” you responded, gasping as his hips roughly snap into yours. It was perfect, just like you wanted to, but it was a singular movement. “No! Eggsy please, please don’t stop!”

“Fuck, please… please, you need to tell me if I hurt you. Promise?” His voice was breathless as you nod, pulling his hands upward toward your tits.

“I promise. Just fuck me, Eggsy.”

This time he really didn’t hold back, immediately twisting you to lay on your back, inhaling as he snapped his hips forward to fuck you, rough and hard just like you wanted him to. He didn’t hold back, his hands holding your hips roughly. Oh, it was perfect and everything you wanted.

He was rough just like you wanted him to be, your body bouncing along with every thrust, head tilting back with pornographic moans falling from your mouth. The way you were being fucked was as though Eggsy was never given the chance to let loose, using your body as a way to escape.

His roughness wasn’t subjected to just his thrusts, leaning down and marking up every inch of your skin with hickies and bite marks from his mouth, his rough hands rubbing and gripping your body. You were basically sobbing when he was done, not even done as he panted above you, his cum dripping down your ass as he pumped his cock.

“Can I keep going, baby? Please, darling? I want to keep fucking you, want to fuck you so bad,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss against your ear. “Please?”

“I want you to keep going,” you didn’t care how sore you were, how full your stomach was of his cum. You felt sticky, gasping as he slid back inside of you, rolling his hips softly instead of what he was previously doing. “N-No, no, roughly. Rougher. Please.”

“You’re sure you can handle it?” His voice wasn’t taunting you, his lips pressing soft kisses to your skin. “I like having you covered in me. Smothered in me, full of me. Want all of you, and you need all of me. But I can’t give it to you if it’s gonna hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” you whispered back, shaking your head as you kissed his lips softly. “You could never hurt me. Keep going.”

He smiled, nodding. “Whatever you say, your majesty.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “It’s your highness. I’m not queen yet.”

“You’re almost there,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Your majesty.”

“There you go.”

Thank all of you so much for supporting me!! Even though Bingo requests and Bingo is almost done, I have my next event already planned - please stay tuned!! Requests are closed but they will be open when I clear my inbox, and again, thank all of you so much!!

Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪   𓆩[@yoongiwife23]𓆪 𓆩[@urlocalbum12-blog]𓆪 𓆩[@theonetheonly-mee]𓆪

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪 𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪   𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪   𓆩[@ineedmentalhelp123]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop