Tag: hartwin

takeanotherpieceofmyhartwin:

harttwin:

why in all the fics that Harry goes “say the word an deans gone” Eggsy never says the word ??? i want him to ask Harry to end him, not particularly caring how Harry’s gonna do it (or jokingly ¯_(ツ)_/¯) and Harry going ahead and taking care of it

“Hey Harry, my mum says Dean is missing.”

“Well what did you think I meant when I said he’d be gone?”

“..OH! Oh shit yeah that’s cool bruv.”

violyntfemme:

spockri:

Whiskey watches as Eggsy steps away to answer a call from his girlfriend.  He’s impressed by the kid’s prowess to nab himself the Princess of Sweden, but he’s not that impressed.  He’s had his fair share of brushing elbows with presidents and royalty, and he’s more into princes than princesses, but that’s nobody’s business.  To his left, Harry (Not the South Glade Church killer anymore.  Not a mysterious John Doe armed to the gills with deadly gadgets anymore) watches his protégé talking in hushed whispers, and Whiskey isn’t blind.  Despite his Stetson, dusty boots, and southern drawl, he’s still a spy, and it’s his job to notice little quirks and ticks in other people.  He’s seen the way they look at each other, one with regret and the other full of longing.  The tension is so thick between them that Whiskey doubts his lasso could cut through it.

Harry’s moodier than usual.  Whiskey’s spent enough time watching and observing Harry through the one-way mirror to recognize the subtle change in the man’s demeanor.  It’s more than just finding out his office and home have been blown up, and his life’s work is a pile of rubble and ashes now.  People have moved on and made a life for themselves without him.  Sullenness has replaced the usual aloofness that Whiskey’s used to seeing.  It’s a little odd: what Harry and Eggsy could have been or might have been once upon a time.  There’s a questionable age gap between them, and they come from very different backgrounds.  Still, he can understand why Harry can’t seem to take his eyes (or eye) off Eggsy.  The boy has classically good looks and exudes a certain kind of charm that lets him get away with all his backtalk.  Eggsy is adorable, really, like a tiny pomeranian who yaps too much and picks fights with dogs twice his size, and people still coo over him regardless.

“Thinking about your home?“  Whiskey makes small talk while they wait for the others to return to the table.  Merlin excused himself to the men’s room a minute earlier, leaving Harry and him in awkward silence.  He rests his arm along the back of the booth, careful not to touch Harry’s shoulder because Harry has a history of being unpredictable.  Handsome (even with an eye patch), but very dangerous. And that’s kind of a turn on, honestly.

Harry turns his head to look at Whiskey.  “No.“  At least Harry’s talking now. 

“About something else you lost then?” Whiskey clarifies and glances knowingly over at Eggsy who’s by the bar finishing up his conversation.  He’s a spy. Being nosy is in his blood.

Following the direction of Whiskey’s gaze, Harry doesn’t bother with embarrassment or defensiveness.  Instead, he replies as a matter of fact, “You can’t lose what was never yours.”

God, give us more. Please. This is fantastic. And tag me if you do, I beg of you.

Prepare yourself for this angst. So there’s a mole in kingsman HQ and somehow they mistake it for Eggsy, and they torture him until the actual mole is revealed. Afterwards, Eggsy doesn’t quit(bc he’s very professional, and stuff like that might happen, deal with it) but at some point they used Harry to interrogate him, and now Eggsy sorta connects Harry to dean. I just want angst, and maybe there was existing hartwin? However you want it dear!

zombiisheep:

(Wow. Um. I don’t even know if my heart can handle this! ;A; I’m getting sad just thinking about it. But I will do it! I will do the angst because it is necessary for the fandom. And I can’t turn down the chance to write a good torture scene. TRIGGER WARNINGS: Violence, Blood, Torture, SHEER ANGST)

Eggsy woke, his head pounding like someone had decided to take a sledge hammer repeatedly to the inside of his skull. He looked around, but he couldn’t see anything. The room was pitch black, the darkness cloying and consuming him. His heart rate spiked, sharp panic metallic on his tongue.

He took a moment to assess his situation. His hands were bound with zip ties around the the back of the metal chair. Other than his head, nothing hurt. He still had all his limbs, teeth, and though he couldn’t see an inch in front of his face, he was pretty sure he had his eyes.

What happened?

The last thing he remembered was coming out of the cinema with Harry. Harry had said something, and Eggsy had thought how strange it was that Harry sounded so sad. The movie had been a comedy, why did he sound like he was going to cry? And then it had gone dark and Eggsy had been pitched into the nothingness.

Someone drugged me, Eggsy told himself.

A light went on, blindly bright–well at least his eyes still worked, though Eggsy wasn’t so sure anymore–and Gawain walked into the room.

“What the ‘ell is going on, bruv?” Eggsy snapped, tugging forcefully at his arms. “Why the fuck am I tied up? Where’s ‘Arry?”

Gawain’s expression was unreadable, which was strange since Gawain always had a smile on. Eggsy enjoyed working with him because Gawain always had a joke on hand. But now he stared impassively at Eggsy, his eyes cold and calculating.

“Who are you working for?” Gawain asked.

“What? What the fuck are y’ gettin’ on about? Is this another joke? Y’ know ‘Arry is going to be pissed when he finds out,” Eggsy said. “Now let me up.”

Gawain didn’t move, but there was a slight tremor up his arm from how tightly he clenched his fist. “This isn’t a joke, Bors. We know you’re the mole. We found the transmissions. But we can’t decipher who they’re too. If you tell us who you’re working for, we’ll make this quick.”

Eggsy’s heart dropped into his stomach with a loud splash. “What?” Eggsy asked, incredulously. “Are y’ taking a fucking piss? I’m not the mole! I work for *Kingsman* y’ arse. Where’s ‘Arry? Does he know about this?”

“He knows,” Gawain answered, and it was a hard slap to the face, completely wrecking Eggsy.

“What?” Eggsy whispered. The two words rang in his ears. Gawain observed Eggsy with a predatory glare. The silence was violent. Eggsy could feel the noose around his neck, tightening with each passing second.

Harry knew? He knew and he left Eggsy here? How… how could he think.. Eggsy would never betray Harry. Never. Eggsy would die before he did that.

“I’ll give you one last chance. You can’t deny the evidence, Bors. There’s too much against you,” Gawain said. Eggsy met his glare, his mouth clamped shut tightly.

Gawain let out a long breath through his nose. “The hard way than.” He closed in on Eggsy, and for the first time in Eggsy’s life, he learned what true pain was.

It lasted for an hour, each cycle going in ten minute intervals. Gawain was a calculated killer and the best interrogator Kingsman had. He knew where to hit to make it hurt, but to not leave permanent damage. He stretched it out, and at first Eggsy resisted, keeping his mouth sealed. But his resistance was nothing compared to Gawain’s iron will, and as the strikes grew harder, the cuts deeper, the tactics deadlier, Eggsy began to crumble.

He screamed. He screamed for Harry. He screamed until his throat bled. And when making a sound choked him, he screamed around the blood.

Where was Harry? Why was he doing this? How could he believe Eggsy would do this? They’d been together for three years. Eggsy had been an agent for five. Why would he betray them now?

Eggsy didn’t know when the lights went out or if it was him going unconscious, but eventually the light returned, and when his vision cleared, Eggsy was looking at Harry from across the table.

Eggsy sobbed, trying to strain at the restraints, but too exhausted. Each breath was a struggle. Gawain had broken a few of his ribs. He avoided Eggsy’s face, but that didn’t mean that the rest of his body didn’t feel like a large open wound that someone kept pouring salt on.

“’Arry,” Eggsy croaked. “’Arry, please. It’s me. Y’ know it’s me. I’d never…”

Harry’s eyes were distant. They weren’t cold. They weren’t steel. They were dead, turned off to Eggsy. And that hurt more than anything Gawain could ever do. Harry rose to his feet and walked around the table to Eggsy, towering over him.

Eggsy craned his neck to look at Harry, whispering, “Please, ‘Arry… I love you.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath, and something between ruin and fury passed over him. The slap echoed off the walls. Eggsy felt the pain radiate across his face, blood pooling in his mouth.

Harry had never struck him, ever. But now… Eggsy stared at him in horror.

“Don’t,” Harry whispered harshly, words trembling. “Don’t say those lies. We know. Tristan found everything. I loved you.”

Loved. Past tense.

Eggsy didn’t care anymore. He sagged in the seat, entire body going numb. His mind slipped into the place where nothing existed but a single snow globe, which he shook and watched, mesmerized by the falling glitter. It was the place he went to when Dean beat on him. It was his only safe haven.

“Tell us,” Harry demanded, his voice disconnected. “Tell us who you work for and we’ll end this now.”

End it. Kill him.

Eggsy rolled his eyes up to look at Harry. Maybe he should just tell them what they want. Come up with a name. Anything to make this end. Because what was the point of going on when Harry didn’t even believe in him?

Harry looked away, a shudder cascading down him. “I’ve never been more disappointed.”

Eggsy gasped, and his heart cracked straight down the middle. He let out a sob, head dropping. “Okay,” Eggsy croaked around snow and tears. “Okay.”

The door suddenly banged open and Merlin cried, “Stop!”

Eggsy’s head shot up. He winced at the pain that penetrated his neck and stared at Merlin, who gaped at him with wide horrified eyes.

“It’s not him,” Merlin said hoarsely. “It’s not him. It’s Tristan, he set it up–we have him. He forged the transmissions. Eggsy didn’t do it.”

Harry collapsed at Eggsy’s feet. No one spoke. What could they say? Eggsy hung from the chair, doing the only thing he could do–he sobbed.

Everything after was a blur afterwards. Tristan was taken in for questioning. Eggsy was taken to medical and tended to. Merlin oversaw his care personally. The damage, while excruciating, wasn’t life threatening. Gawain knew what he was doing.

Eggsy spent a few days in the medical ward. Gawain visited and pleaded with Eggsy to forgive him. Eggsy did, because he knew the man was acting on orders. When Merlin asked if he would quit, Eggsy said, “Of course not. This shite happens, right guv?” The response was hollow.

Merlin nodded, placed his hand on Eggsy’s, and murmured, “Good, lad.”

When Harry came to visit, he looked like a specter of his former self. He stared at Eggsy from across the room, mouth open as if he were going to say something–maybe apologize–but Eggsy turned away and curled in on himself. That wasn’t his Harry. That Harry was gone. The man before him was just another face of Dean, another face of a man who would wield his strength and power over Eggsy until he bowed.

Eggsy would stay with Kingsman and he would be loyal to Arthur, but Eggsy would never look at Harry the same again.

(I hope everyone is sad now!! XD)

omg but how about that “are you serious? right in front of my salad?” and its eggsy getting fucked by harry and merlin is eating the salad, im sorry i had to say it somewhere

notbrogues:

Merlin had just sat down at his kitchen island with what was going to be a very lovely Cobb salad: perfectly hard-boiled eggs, shredded rotisserie chicken from his favourite deli, organic avocado, the stinkiest blue cheese he could get his hands on. After a long day babysitting his agents, it was going to be well worth it.

He was just about to dig in when the unmistakable sound of sweaty flesh slapping against more sweaty flesh broke his reverie at his magnificent salad. Sighing deeply, he sets down his fork and slowly looks up to where Harry is absolutely pile-driving Eggsy in the counter top.

He knew it was a mistake to let Harry and Eggsy board at his place upon returning to London while they searched for their own house.

“Are you serious?” Merlin asks incredulously. “Right in front of my salad?”

Eggsy was drooling on the counter, so he wasn’t going to answer. 

Fucking unbelievable. Merlin was going to have to eat in the bathroom, again.

For the sentence starters game: Hartwin and ” you’re jealous, aren’t you? ” Please

annaofaza:

There’s a familiar lull after saving the world, a sense of satisfaction in a job well done. Harry would have celebrated with a glass of whatever he happened to find in his liquor cabinet, but as he hadn’t had anything alcoholic for nearly three years, it seemed best to hold off on that for the time being. 

Eggsy, in contrast, seems to be downing shot after shot, raising his hands as the Statesman and Roxy cheer him on, Merlin shaking his head beside Harry, with Ginger putting a hand on Merlin’s arm and laughing. The bar’s booths are strewn with glasses of varying sizes, along with trays of chips—fries—and takeaway, albeit with no burgers in sight, though Harry couldn’t blame anyone after what they uncovered in Poppy’s lab. 

Harry watches as Tequila says something to Eggsy, throwing in a wink, and tries ignore the sharp twist in his chest, especially when Eggsy flushes dark red, glancing downwards. Luckily, Whiskey comes forward, gently pushing Tequila off to the side, but the relief Harry decidedly does not feel is immediately squashed when Whiskey leans in, hand on Eggsy’s shoulder, whispering in Eggsy’s ear. 

Eggsy looks up at him, surprise flooding across his face, then his lips move: you serious? 

Whiskey nods, and Eggsy seems to consider something before touching Whiskey’s shoulder and gesturing to the door. 

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

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