#golden kind of wants go get a tattoo to be a ~rebel~ but he's afraid of regretting it and also doesn't like needless

[multishipper-baby]

Thinking more about my future AU because tbh Fox and Bonnie both look like the type to get tattoos once they become adults. Not sure what type tho.

[ohheyitsokay]

🎉Congratulations lovely! 🎊

The tattooed phrase trope is absolute gold in soulmate AU fics.

Am also a sucker for rivals to lovers ^^

Maybe a fluffy little piece between Poe and the reader with the Reader's phrase being "Well show me what you've got then, flyboy?"

hellooo welcome to the chaos (since you're new here!)

I'll do my best, I hope you enjoy!

warnings: I think this is just fluff, with vague mentions canon typical drama

>>

soulmate requests / follower celebration

<<

There was something about those hanger hallways, something that made it feel like you had to walk fast.

Maybe it was the clean sharp lines, and the regular announcements, and the smooth lines of droids on their merry way.

Maybe it was the urgency of saving the universe from pompous 'rulers' who thought they had any idea what was best.

Or, maybe you just liked to move quickly.

It was in your blood - not because you were born into it, but because you had shed blood, with sweat and tears to get to where you were. And because the universe had half dictated it that way.

"I hardly think it matters. Not that I dont think good pilots help, but I dont save lives," you retorted to the rebel beside you, her steps in pace with yours. "Not like you."

"Become a medic then," Jane rolled her eyes. Your mouth opened, words still forming on your tongue, before your friend stopped dead, hands on her hips. The hallway was forked, little labels indicating youd half pulled her in the wrong direction.

"Hush," she said. "I dont care what excuse you have this time. We both know you don't have a option." Eyebrows raised, and you sighed, dodging another hurried rebel as they almost tripped on a little mouse droid.

On your arm for years now were the words So, you're a pilot?

Long nights you'd spent arguing about fate with your friends - you loved flying, you really did, but-

"It's such a glory job," you always protested.

"Main characters are pilots," she would reply, her sturdy shoulders shrugging. Her agreement didnt make you feel better. If you were lucky, someone else would add, "But you're not like that."

Because you weren't. You were just... you.

"I just want to help people." And no one would argue because that was true, too.

It hadnt come upon awhile, fate, and short lived careers, and how infuriating it was when people held nations lives in their hands because they loved the attention. You lived with it, and kept your mouth shut. because General Organa needed all the help she could get.

And you couldn't deny that you loved it, and it was easier to bear the stress of reality when you didnt think too hard. But -

"Why is this coming up again?" A rhetorical question, delivered with a smirk, and responded to with a childish face.

Jane was pulling you down the opposite hallway, towards the bay, and your stomach twisted, despite the friendly teasing. He was there, you'd told her before, so she knew the reason you'd been antsy, looking for something to blame.

Poe Dameron.

A hotshot pilot, maybe the best in the galaxy. An infuriatingly handsome, ridiculously charismatic, obnoxiously smart, stupidly kind rebel who had nearly blown up your favorite x-wing.

You couldnt decide if he deserved an award or a good solid slap to his cheek. The favored option switched each day, but nothing would come from either - you had never actually talked to him, always too afraid of... what youd be opening yourself up to.

Becaus even from far away you saw him, late at night repairing that dumb x-wing with his bubbly little bb unit, talking to the little thing like he really was sorry. Because you saw him hugging a new recruit, talking to them for what must have been hours after their first mission. Because his smile, the same one that had captured the hearts of almost everyone around, was full of thoughtfulness and earnestness and confidance.

And if you didnt tell yourself that he was selfish, flying for all the wrong reasons, and that you were going to show him? If you didnt protest that your attention was solely in seeking pilot humility?

Then, Maker help you, you were in love with him.

"Shut up," you said sternly, as your friend grinned, and the two of you approached the ship you'd spent all morning checking and rechecking. Her response blew away, drowned under the noise of chatter and intercom announcements and the chaos of the hanger.

A hard hug, a fistful of fabric, and shouts to stay safe, and both her and her teasing disappeared, and your turned the the hunk of metal above you.

"So, you're a pilot?" It was the words, but the voice that made you flinch. You'd heard him before, voice like dark caf in mornings, sweetened at the edges with golden honey.

No way he was talking to you.

"I mean, obviously you're a pilot." Why was he here? Wasn't his ship... oh. Next to yours.

"And a damn good one, I hear," he kept talking. Your words were sticking in your throat, alarm bells screaming to tell him off, to spit out your righteous lecture or tell him to mind his own business or something. You unintentionally ignored him, but he just... kept talking, content to let you work opposite of him.

"I... I've seen you around." For the first time, your gaze snapped into his, wondering at the nervousness of his tone. Regretting it instantly, you turned away. His eyes were like his voice, dark and warm and bad for you. Bad, bad, bad.

"You talk about how we do this for others."

Hand on the top rung of your ladder, you paused, this time looking at him deliberately. He really wanted to have this conversation? And... Maker it felt like you'd hit an asteroid. All those walls, sharp and sturdy like tempered metal, crumbling around you.

He shouldve looked smaller, hanging from his own ladder like he didn't have anywhere to be, but he didnt. Of course he didn't.

"I agree," he said, awkwardness replaced with a resolute phrase. Almost a promise.

And you grinned.

"Well," you held his gaze as he pulled himself up another rung, to be even with you. "Show me what you've got then, flyboy."

And he grinned back.

He disappeared from view for a moment as you pulled yourself into the cockpit, and your mind, which had gone blissfully silent, abruptly began to scream.

Something - something just happened - but it was time to go, and you had a mission, and the coms were switching on, and -

Looking over you saw him, his beautiful eyes as wide as yours felt.

And then you got the all-clear for take-off.

-

He had searched for you the moment you landed. You knew he did.

But you had landed a row away from where he did and hunkered down in the cockpit and tried to breathe and process the mission - a resounding success - and the terrifying thought that you had maybe just found your soulmate. And been one slightly-less-perfect maneuver away from losing him again.

He - he probably got swept away int he rush of celebrating crowds like he always did. Not that you noticed.

The phrase, on your arm, it was... it was common, right? Anyone could say it.

The whole mission you'd shoved it out of your mind, only focused on getting everyone out of there alive, and now that it was over...

You didnt know what to do. The hanger was quiet, void of cheering crowds and pilots alike, and you climbed out, hitting the ground with a thud.

Poe was waiting for you, looking almost shy as he buried his hands in his pockets. Sleeves rolled up, you saw words youd never noticed before... words you'd felt in your mouth mere hours ago.

"How'd I do?" He asked, his smile small, dark eyebrows bending in.

Like before, the chaos of your thoughts stilled, storm waves settling to a gentle tide. You walked towards him, wondering at the feeling.

"Not too bad," you said, trying your hand at a matching smile. It came easy, easier than you were prepared for.

"Yeah?" Was he always so tall?

"Didnt get anyone killed."

"Good point," his voice sounded rough, and... he was close.

"I think," Poe wet his lips, and you could almost feel it, he was so close. "I think my soulmate prefers it that way." He was right.

Hand on that broad chest, flight suit streaked with who knows what, you kissed him.

He kissed you.

Warm and sweet.

And slow.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz @saradika @zinzinina

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

The Senator and The Chiss

Until We Meet Again: Part 1/?

Thrawn x Senator!Reader, Female Pronouns

Summary: You are a newly appointed Senator of you home planet, trying your best to make it through Ascension week in one piece. Things take a turn for the interesting when you meet a Lieutenant of the Imperial Navy unlike any you have seen before.

Loosely based on an anon request.

A/N: I’m not exactly sure where this is going. I plan this to be a series of one shots revolving around this Senator!Reader. If your interested in reading more about her and Thrawn, feel free to send any request my way! And remember REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS!!!

Word Count: 2.6K

Ascension week was proving to be more exhausting than you had anticipated.

You understood what was expected of you and had mentally prepared to be on your feet for every day of the celebrations. But after only three days, the names and faces were starting to blur together until nothing mattered except going home and finally getting some sleep.

You clung to the sides of the ballroom, enjoying the moment’s peace while you could. You had long forgotten where exactly you were or even the host’s name. A twist of guilt resided in your stomach because of it. With any luck you could remain anonymous for another hour or so, as to not appear rude when you left early. The dress and hairpiece you were wearing, however, were making things difficult.

The wardrobe was ceremonial in nature, meant to mark you as a leader of your people. The dress was perfectly tailored to your figure with vibrant greens interwoven with golden and silver thread sewn together in a striking pattern. An elaborate crown was braided into your hair making it appear as if golden vines resided there blooming with silver flowers. It was a striking sight, meant to represented the life of your homeworld and the pride of your people.

Governor Lir had declared you a vision when you had arrived, assuring you were a testimate to Danu and would be the talk of Courscant.

You had thanked him, but knew his words rung partially false. Even when your aids had finished the final touches, you could feel yourself being buried under the weight of the dress. The metal vines poked and pulled at your scalp. You had almost tripped upon first entering the ballroom. If it weren’t for having Governor Lir’s arm, you would have fallen. It was obvious to any with a pair of eyes, and especially yourself; the dress was wearing you rather than you wearing it.

Perhaps you just needed practice. You had only been Senator of Danu for a handful of months and had just settled into your office on Courscant a few weeks ago. It would take time to adjust. But as you looked over the sea of people in the ballroom, all veteran politicians, military men, and various other powerful figures, it was becoming clear time wasn’t on your side.

You took a sip of your wine. Maybe you could convince Governor Lir you needed to rest. Surely he had introduced you to enough people for the evening.

You spotted him across the room, engaged with a handful of other Outer Rim governors.

It would have to wait. You didn’t want to be accidently sucked into another trade routes discussion, if you could help it.

You continued to walk until you came across a set of heavy curtains. They appeared hastily put up. Peaking out of one of the corners you could just make out the bright colors of some kind of mural. Most likely the host didn’t have time to finish it before the start of Ascension week. Regardless, it was exactly the reprieve you needed. Taking a quick glance to make sure you wouldn’t be seen, you ducked under and out of sight.

You turned to face the wall, not wanting to risk backing into wet paint. But, as your eyes adjusted to the dim light, it was clear such precaution was not necessary.

The mural was old, much older than any of the other paintings and portraits placed around the ballroom. The color was starting to fade, but their vibrancy would not die an easy death.

The entire wall was covered in what could only be an ancient star map. Circles and lines weaved along, connecting worlds and stars and planets together in a delicate dance. Each planet stood bodly on their own while still emphasising the importance of the lines connecting them to the rest.

You took a small step back, craning your neck to try and catch every brush stroke. It was then you noticed fresh paint along the corners. At first you assumed it was restoration, but as you examined closer, the darker, subtler color scheme told you otherwise.

A small sting of pain came to your heart. They were painting over it.

The rustle of fabric interrupted your thoughts. You turned toward the sound, an apology ready on your lips when they froze there in wonder.

A new party had entered your sanctuary, but he was unlike anyone you had ever seen.

He was alien, a rarity you had found at events such as these during your short time on Coruscant, but he didn't belong to any species you could name. His humanoid appearance and blue skin should have pointed clearly toward a Pantoran. But his face lacked the usual golden facial tattoos. More importantly his eyes weren’t the usual black or gold; they were a glowing red.

He stood tall exuding an air of confidence which left you transfixed. At first you thought he might be a general or even a prince. But, his uniform and plaque marked him as a Lieutenant of the Imperial Navy.

It felt wrong, somehow.

You blinked, suddenly realizing how long you had been staring. The only comfort you could find was that he had been staring back.

“I’m sorry,” you said, automatically. “Was this your hiding place?”

You held back a wince at your own words. Why would someone like him need to hide?

To your relief, he did not seem to take offence as his lip curled into a mildly amused expression. “No,” he said, in accented Basic. “I was merely hoping for a chance to admire the artwork. Though, it appears I have stumbled upon your hiding place.”

Your eyes darted down in embarrassment. “It was not my intention for it to be so. I just needed a moment to breathe and well…” You looked back toward the painting, and the same regretful pain tugged at your heart once more.

“I will leave you to it, then,” the alien said. He turned to leave, and a sudden panic took you.

“There’s no need,” you said, quickly. “Please, there is more than enough room for two and you may not have another opportunity.”

He paused a moment. His expression was unreadable as his red eyes gazed directly into yours.

You found yourself holding your breath, not even daring to blink.

Then, slowly, he nodded and took a place by your side.

You stood in silence, each allowing the other to observe the mural in peace.

It was actually rather pleasant. You hadn’t realized how long it had been since you had a comfortable silence with someone.

“What do you know of this painting,” he asked.

His tone was surprisingly soft. If he hadn’t addressed you directly, you would have assumed he was asking himself.

“Not much I’m afraid,” you answered. “Judging by how faded it is and the subject matter, I would guess it was commissioned well before The Clone War.”

“That was my conclusion as well. You have a fondness for that era, I take it.”

You gave a small frown. “What makes you say that?”

“You were facing the mural instead of the entrance,” he said, not bothering to take his gaze from the wall. “For one reason or another, this piece overshadowed your desire to remain hidden.”

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably at the truth of his statement as your cheeks grew warm. “I suppose you’re right. In truth, I have a fondness for any era of peace in our galaxy’s history. The Republic was so for nearly a millennium…” You stopped then, a familiar lump forming in your throat. “Until it wasn’t.”

“And what of the Empire?”

You shrugged, swallowing the lump as best you could. “Too soon to tell.”

He said nothing for a moment. His eyes still remained on the mural, but you knew he had taken your words into serious consideration. To what end, you could only guess.

“What other thoughts do you have on the painting?” he asked.

“How do you mean?”

“What do you see? What do you believe drew you to it in the first place?”

He settled his eyes on your now, with just the same focused attention as he had the wall.

“You me aside from its use as an ideal hiding place,” you asked.

His lip twisted upward slightly. “Yes, aside from that.”

You nodded, and allowed yourself a moment to ponder the question. Your eyes wandered again to the mural, to the shapes and colors and the looming ridged strokes along the edges.

“I think it has more to do with the contrast of what is to come,” you said, thoughtfully. “A riot of color rebelling against the darkness.”

You turned your eye to his. They seemed to burn in the dim light. For a moment, you thought you might burn yourself. You looked away, suddenly feeling very small and childish in your explanation.

“But, I am no expert.”

“Perhaps not,” he conceded. “But your answer is telling, nonetheless.”

Your back stiffened, and you raised your chin a little higher. “Do you presume to know me Lieutenant?”

“No,” he said, calmly. “I would not presume to know anything without more data.”

“But you have come to some conclusions.”

“Theories.”

“Which are?”

You were standing even straighter now. You would not allow yourself to be intimidated, especially by a man you barely knew.

He paused then. Something in his expression faltered, as if taken by surprise.

A small swell of pride came to your chest. You had a suspicion surprise was a foreign emotion to the alien.

It only lasted a moment and the impenetrable mask reclaimed its place on his features.

“As I said, I cannot make any certain claims,” he said, carefully. “I can only speculate. But I believe I am correct in saying, you are much bolder than you allow yourself to be.”

You blinked in wonder, not knowing entirely what to say. Slowly, you regained control of your vocabulary. “I will take it under consideration.”

He gave small nod in acknowledgement.

Another silence fell between you. It was not as comfortable as the last one. A new tension was in the air. What it was, you couldn’t name. All you knew was your ears were growing deadly hot.

“For such an intimate evaluation of my character, it feels odd I don’t know your name,” you said, in a light tone.

“Then, allow me to provide a remedy.” He straightened to attention. “I am Lieutenant Thrawn, first weapon’s officer of the Blood Crow, Imperial Navy. And, you?”

You matched him, straightening your posture and holding your head high as if to present yourself to a King. “I am Senator Y/N of Danu,” you said, with a curtsey. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lieutenant Thrawn.”

“The pleasure is mine, Senator.”

The amused line had made its way back onto his lips.

It was a small change, but you instantly fell at ease making your next question easier to bear.

“Forgive me if I sound ignorant,” you said. “And please know I mean no disrespect. But, I do not believe I’ve seen a member of your species before. May I ask where you come from?”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Thrawn assured. “I’m afraid you would not have heard of my home planet as it is not on any of your star maps. I can, however, tell you that I am Chiss.”

You felt your eyes widen. “Chiss?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of the Chiss?”

“Only stories, folk tales really.” You were gawking now, you knew you were, but it couldn’t be helped. “I wasn’t entirely convinced you were real.”

“Indeed,” he said. “And how did a senator come to hear such stories?”

“Danu is part of the Outer Rim, boarding Wild Space,” you explained, mentally shaking yourself out of your shock. “My family has employed a number of traders who have explored the Unknown Region looking for hyperspace lanes or even just new trading partners. They all come back with stories.”

“Which you were inclined to listen too.”

You shrugged. “A good story is a good story, it doesn’t matter where it came from or how true it is. Although, it appears some of them may be.”

“Perhaps,” he said, thoughtfully. “I would be interested to hear these stories. A small handful have been relayed to be by my translator, Ensign Vanto. I am curious what similarities and differences may arise after comparing them to another source.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “And I would be fascinated to hear the stories straight from the Gualaar’s mouth,” you said. “But before we begin, I have one more question to ask of you.”

“Which is?”

“What do you think of the mural?”

Thrawn paused, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You were able to deduce some of my character from the exercise,” you said. “It’s only fair I be given the same opportunity.”

Thrawn again, said nothing. Finally he nodded. “You’re quite right.”

He was quite a long moment.

You could see the wheels of his mind turning behind his eyes. You would have given anything to know exactly what he was thinking. But as was becoming a habit, you could only guess.

Another moment passed before he blinked smoothly back to reality.

“I believe you and I see much the same thing,” he said. “But our conclusions differ as to their ultimate meaning.”

You felt your lips purse at his rather cryptic answer. You were about to ask him what exactly he meant when the curtains behind you parted.

“Lieutenant Thrawn,” an older man snapped. “I’ve been looking… Oh, my apologies.”

He faltered slightly upon seeing you, but soon gained his footing as he stood to attention.

“No need to apologize, Colonel,” Thrawn said. “Allow me to introduce Senator Y/N of Danu. Senator, this is Colonel Yularen of the ISB.”

The Colonel gave a small bow in greeting. “An honor, Senator.”

“The honor is mine,” you replied. “In truth, I should be apologizing to you. It seems I’ve distracted the Lieutenant from his duties.”

“Only for a moment,” the Colonel said, in a good natured, but firm tone which oddly reminded you of your grandfather. “But, I’m afraid I will have to steal him away from you.”

“Of course,” you said, even if you felt a small prick of pain at the loss.

He looked to Thrawn. “Lieutenant.”

“One moment, Colonel,” Thrawn said, as he turned his attention to you. “I would like to continue our discussion at a later date. Is there a time and place convenient for you?”

“I will be attending gatherings every evening this week,” you said, trying to repress the sudden surge of excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “However, I will be in my office tomorrow afternoon, if you can spare the time.”

“I am certain I can. Until tomorrow Senator.”

“Until tomorrow.”

He gave a small bow and turned to follow Colonel Yularen back into the light of the ballroom.

You stood there a moment reeling from the experience. So many questions buzzed in your mind each fighting for your attention until they became a jumbled mess. He thought you were bold?

You shook the thought away, but it didn’t stop your cheeks from growing warm once again.

Perhaps it was too soon to tell, but you had a strange feeling you would be seeing much more of Lieutenant Thrawn than just your upcoming meeting. You weren’t sure what to make of the sensation that now beat fast in your heart. All you could do was wait and see what the galaxy had in store.

Taking a small breath, you step forward towards the light. Your dress felt lighter now. The crown upon your head did not pull and prod. Your steps were smooth and easy.

However this played out, it was certain to be interesting.

[kfawkes]

The Part We Play - [Eggsy Unwin x Reader]

[HI!!!!!! This is SO fucking long and it barely even covers this prompt WHICH IS AMAZING. And thats why I’m going so crazy lol. Soooo. I hope you like it?? Been working on it hard, and I have some goooood fun plans for it so I hope you enjoy so I can actually get to the juicy stuff... :) So obviously I mean this is going to be at least 2 more parts XD So hope you like it ;.; 

Note: SPOILERS IN THIS SECTION!!! ---- *This is set over a year AFTER the events of Kingsman: The Golden Circle. With that in mind it is a FIX IT. So Tilde is not in the picture, Harry is back and Merlin AND ROXY ARE ALIVE FIGHT ME!!!!!*

Pairing: Eggsy x Reader - OC’s, references to Harry/Merlin/Rox, etc/eventual entry of characters. 

Words: 4.2k ... I told you... hella long XD 

Warnings: cursing, I can't really think of what else but if something bothers you lmk and I will update this section!

---Read on Ao3!]

All you ever wanted was to have a normal life and a normal family… Just to be able to go to school like the other kids. To have friends, play a sport or maybe even try your hand at theatre. But you learned pretty quick that having anything resembling ‘normal’ wasn’t going to happen.

Not with a life like yours… not with a family like yours.

Although what you had wasn’t really a family so much as it was your father and his goons— but it was all the same: you were stuck. Stuck somewhere you never wanted to be, in a life you didn’t choose and saying you were miserable didn’t begin to cover it.

You were miserable and then some, but you’d gotten a bit better at hiding it over the years. Wasn’t hard considering you’d spent your entire life being homeschooled, hardly ever seeing dad or well, anyone. You also never had a real job because he had plenty of money and friends were hard to come by. Dating? Yeah, that was completely out of the question... but you made your due, you always made your due.

You did so because it’s what mom would have wanted. You couldn’t always see that though and for awhile there you fought it, and boy did you fight it hard. Tried your best to rebel, to have a life outside of this shit your father called living, and it wasn’t until he drug you back kicking and screaming that you decided it just wasn’t worth it.

But just because you accepted it didn’t mean you understood it… and really you didn't.

Why couldn’t you have been like the other kids? Why couldn’t you fall in love and go off to college or get married like everyone else— even though you weren’t even sure that’s what you wanted… you just wanted the choice, and no matter how long you thought about it you couldn’t understand why you never had one. It didn’t make sense to you, and whenever you begged for an answer you were only given more questions. More questions and excuses.

‘There are people who would use you against me.’ ‘Running this kind of business is bound to get you enemies...’ or your personal favorite, ‘Honey, I’m doing all of this for you.’

All of those excuses were valid, and would be pretty terrifying to hear if you hadn’t grown so used to them by now. Not to mention they were usually delivered without a hint of tact, or genuine emotion, and that only made his words harder to believe. He wasn’t convincing in the slightest, but he was your dad still, wasn’t he? To be completely honest, most days you couldn’t tell.

One thing you did know though was that you weren’t afraid of anything anymore. How could you be with a man like that as your father? He never touched you of course, no, you were his little girl; the only thing he seemed to care about and you were the future…

There were some days though— even though they were rare... when you did believe he’d started this for you. When you believed his motives were just and his plans not insane… But none of that really mattered. It didn’t matter because even if he started all of this for you, he was doing it for himself now. He'd been doing it for himself for a long time.

So here you were, the daughter of one of the most successful mob bosses business men in America, being dragged all over the world in his sick fucking plot to control, well… everything.

And all you wanted was out. You played the part, but you dreamt of something better… something more than just being the daughter of a rich psychopath, no matter how nice a ring it had to it. But how could you ever get out with all of his eyes on you?

He had so many eyes, always fucking watching…

The short answer was you couldn’t, and it was almost painful to admit you wouldn’t make it two cities over before he was on your ass. That and you didn’t exactly have the familiarity of your home city to guide you this time… No, you were in the middle of fucking London and you didn’t know North from South. You knew how to get to the coffee shop sure, and the bookstore of course, but that was about it.

So what choice did you really have but to just tough it out?

Dad liked that of course, and brought you in almost immediately as his assistant once you’d stopped fighting your fate. You’d been put in charge of making calls, moving money around, basically everything legit about his business you ran. He called it grooming, but you knew this was really just his way to keep you in his sights.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that ‘assistant’ really just meant you were his maid, and that pissed you off more than anything el—

Knock, knock, knock, knock

“Darlin? They’re gonna be here any minute, can you whip up some of that famous tea of yours?”

“Sure thing, daddy.” You agreed with a sweet smile, shoving the phone you weren’t even paying attention to into your pocket as you push from your bed. A distraction of any size was better than thinking about the vicious cycle that was your life for another minute.

With that in mind you walked by placing a kiss on his cheek as you retreated to the kitchen to do your ‘job’ once more. If there was one thing you hated it was playing the role he forced you into. The role you watched your mother play a thousand times... Well, before she left of course. You can remember the way she played the part of the doting wife and now you were in her spot, filling the vacated space as the perfect daughter.

Looks like some of your childhood dreams came true right? You get to act like everything is fucking peachy every day when really you just wanted to scream.

Now as you stir the large glass pitcher in slow swirls you couldn’t help but think about the job you had to do, and the part you had to play… You’d been doing so well lately, hadn’t you? And now it was time to remember your lines and get to your mark without any more hesitation.

You stepped forward, pressing open the swinging door to the main room with your hip. When you scanned the area you saw that dad’s guests had in fact arrived, and you wondered what todays meeting would entail…

A little torture here, some threatening there? Or maybe they were just stopping by for a pleasant chat. Your dad was unpredictable so really it could be anything, but when you stepped forward the air was so tense you could almost taste it, and you realized there might be one thing you were scared of after all…

Only you couldn’t think about that for long, because by the time you reached dad and his company curiosity had fully rooted; bitting with impatience as you eye those in his party. One of the men— Malcom Royce, you’d known for years. He was a large, muscular man with a tattoo on his neck of a bleeding heart with thorns wrapped around it. Royce was beyond frightening in stature, and had probably put more men in their graves than you had lattes— but you knew he’d never hurt you.

But it wasn’t Royce that had your interest, even if it was nice to see a familiar face that wasn’t fathers. It was the bright blue eyes of the 3rd man that engrossed you. You didn’t recognize him at all, had never seen him in your life… but holy shit did your jaw nearly drop. Whoever this was— he was handsome, really fucking handsome. Far more handsome and younger than any of the people your father brought around the house, and honestly you couldn’t help but stare.

His golden brown hair was thrown about lazily and he had a dark sweater on with a plaid button up below it. He wore fitted jeans and had on a pair of brown boots. His smile was soft and his eyes were light when they met yours and it felt like you already knew him. There was something about him that was almost intoxicating… something that screamed he was just like you, something that said he could save you...

“Perfect timing, darling. Thank you.” he placed a hand to your shoulder softly, but it was done more out of control than anything else as he gestured towards his company with a wide smile. “Thirsty? My daughter here makes excellent iced tea.”

You’d only been looking at… whoever this was for the last 30 or so seconds, but there was a pungent tide that seemed to wrap around the gaze you two shared, and it locked you together. It was insane you knew that, and it almost made you sick to your stomach truthfully; but you could have stared into those azure eyes for ages, getting lost in the possibilities.

Only dad rubbed your shoulder again, pulling you from the strangers eyes sharply. You smiled to yourself, only now hearing the compliment he’d offered. It was genuine you knew that, but in a flash it was back to business as usual. He nodded once signaling you to distribute the glasses accordingly, and just as your script told you to, you compiled.

“It’s not poisoned, honest.” You spoke stepping slightly closer handing off a drink to Malcom with a pure smile. Your father grabbed a glass from over your shoulder as you approached this somehow familiar stranger, holding the glass out for him to take.

The man didn’t grab it though, but he looked from your hands to your eyes sporting a stare you couldn’t decipher. You did however know what that warm chill meant, and that was enough to send your heart fluttering a mile a minute. Maybe it was that jawline, or maybe it was the way he’d been looking at you… whatever it was, it was more than a little intimidating. Intimidating and extremely attractive.

“Oh, it ain’t?” he asked raising his voice teasingly, and you heard the quiet shuffle of those around you as they began listening passively. “Was a bit worried till you said somethin’…”

“Understandable in your line of work.” You answered back just as quick, the ease of your words surprising even you as they left your lips.

“Can’t be too sure.”

After a faint smile, you inched closer pushing the glass towards him once more. “It’s safe… trust me.”

“Yeah, alright.” he smiled at you, not looking to your father as he pulled the drink from your hands; his fingers lightly brushing across your own offering their own soft wave of pinpricks. You lingered on his eyes and lips for a second too long as he raised the glass to you, then the others. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” the three of them said in unison and a second later your father added with a smile. ”To a very auspicious relationship.”

You watched as they raised their glasses, feeling the heaviness creeping around you like a fog. But even in that mess you couldn’t help but smile as you almost miss the feeling of his fingers over yours. However by the look your father sent playtime was over and he needed you out. Now.

But just before you retreated through the door you’d entered, you threw your eyes to the center of the room once more. That man’s azure eyes had already been transfixed on you, and when your gazes met once more you could almost see the fucking stars.

———

Eggsy P.o.V

Eggsy walked up those marble stairs with a weight heavy on his chest, it was pushing and begged for release but he held his composure as best he could. Thankfully the distress he felt wasn’t painted across his face as obviously as it was along his insides. This part was never simple, but it did get easier and every time he passed that ready check he was thankful.

Thankful because at least so far, he'd managed to keep his head…

“Erick— time you met the boss, Norman Blackwell.” Malcom’s voice was strong and gravely as he threw his arm over Eggsy’s shoulder; pulling him closer in an almost too friendly hug. “Why we’re here, actually.”

Malcom Royce had a cigar sticking out the corner of his mouth, and his yellow shirt was open at least one too many buttons in Eggsy’s opinion. It wasn’t like he claimed to be very stylish, but Kingsman had sort of spoiled him in a way. Now what he wore was somewhere closer to one of those intercity hipsters on their way to teach a class about art history or somethin’ and it wasn’t really a look he was fond of… But it’s what the mission called for, so he’d do it.

For whatever reason, Norman was picky and only paid notice to a certain type of person. Someone scholarly, and intelligent with a background in ecology and other related fields... In Eggsy’s case, or rather Erick Thorne’s- he’d been attending Imperial for some time on scholarship for the Biological Sciences program up until last year when he dropped out due to 'unknown reasons'.

Now, Merlin wasn’t sure what it was about this type that Blackwell liked so much, but it was the key in planning a successful mission. Several other students and scientists in similar situations and positions had gone missing over the last several years, and it was Kingsman’s job to find out why.

Eggsy had been undercover for about 5 months now— working alongside Royce, and it was some of the most stressful work he’d ever done. And that's coming from someone who saved the world not once, but twice. It's why he and Tilde broke it off actually… That and she couldn’t handle just dating after he’d told her marriage wasn’t in their cards. No, people usually don't like being told they ain't as important as a job. But it was the truth, Kingsman came first, and it always would.

Plus with Harry back it just didn’t make sense for him to go off and become a prince. That life wasn’t meant for him… He didn't know shit about being a prince, but this he knew about. This he could do.

“Is it now?” Eggsy asked back, with only mild interest upon his voice. But really, this is what he’d been working towards for months and the fact that the day had finally come felt almost like a dream. “Was you plannin’ on tellin’ me before we got in?”

“I’m tellin you now.” Royce laughed back heartily, his large muscles nearly popping the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.

Saying Royce was huge was about a big an understatement as his height. He was tall and then some, more like a bloody fucking giant. Massive arms, a small head and beady little eyes… Dangerous, and stronger than Eggsy that’s for damn sure, and he begged the universe he’d never have to fight that son of a bitch. Cause if he did, well that was almost certainly a fight he’d lose.

“Cheeky fuck.” Eggsy laughed back stuffing his hands in his pockets as they continue up the remaining stairs. “Jus wonderin’ why you got me meetin’ him s’all.”

“That’s fair… He’s very interested in you actually, even asked for you by name after I told him bout last weeks run.” Royce replied with a toothy smile, his golden tooth flickering in the light as the soft puffs of smoke surrounded Eggsy in waves.

“Did he now?” Eggsy pressed his tongue to the corner of his mouth in thought as he decipher the face before him. When Malcolm just nodded, he sent out a soft laugh looking back to the door and scanning the large white pillars on either side. This house was huge. Larger than most of the houses he’d been in before, and it screamed of money.

“Sure did. Think that bit impressed him… might have something a bit a bigger for ya now.”

“Best we go find out then, yeah?” Eggsy smiled again, trying to ignore the smoke that filled his lungs as Royce moved a hand to his shoulder; squeezing almost tightly as he pointed straight into his face.

“One other thing, while you’re in there… Watch yourself around y/n, ya hear?”

Eggsy narrowed his eyes, tilting his head cautiously in confusion. “Who now?”

“Norman’s daughter.” he accentuated with feigned annoyance in his voice.

Norman’s daughter? Norman's got a daughter? How was it they had no record of Blackwell having a daughter?

Quickly Eggsy pulled up the menu across his contact lenses— some of the new Kingsman upgrades — scanning the files for any mention of a daughter, or of him ever having a child at all, but there was absolutely nothing. The only thing it said about his family at all was that he had a wife that went missing a little over 8 years ago.

“Don’t matter… I ain’t interested.” Eggsy’s voice was stern and believable as he held a disinterested look behind his azure gaze. And really, he meant that… he was NOT interested. Yeah, it’d been over a year since Tilde, and it wasn’t like he was hung up on her or nothin’ either but after all that— relationships just didn’t really matter to him anymore.

What mattered was his family and work. Harry, Merlin and Rox mattered... but not relationships and sure as shit not love.

“Good. Any questions then?” Royce asked after a second believing his answer; sporting a wide smile as he winked, pulling the cigar from his teeth to flick the long gray ash away.

Eggsy had learned enough to know this was the part where he needed to shut up and smile. A shake of his head would do, so he offered it knowing it would satisfy Royce enough to gain further entry. Merlin was likely already working away at that bit of missed information, and would have something of use at the next rendezvous… For now he had to just play this out and hope for the best.

Royce stepped forward, shoving the double doors wide as he lead the way with Eggsy following closely behind; scanning the large room with careful eyes. There were large couches, and several tables with TV’s plastered to the walls. Art decorated the walls like the people did the furniture; and they lounge about beautifully on their phones or computers as if they’d hadn't even noticed people entered.

It all seemed so… normal. Except every so often there would be a large man with a gun, hired and ready to blow someones head off in a moments notice.

When their walk came to a halt, Eggsy saw him… Finally… The man he’d been dying to meet since day one of this bloody mission… Norman fucking Blackwell.

There he was sitting on his own version of a throne— which was just a very large leather couch in the far back of the room, women and Blue Pit’s decorating it like tapestry and he looked like he knew it all.

Norman was a genius. He went to MIT, married a Julie Summers and up until now, was thought to never have had any children. He was a big shot in the clean energy world; founding Aqua-Terra, a Fortune 500 company located in the States. Somewhere along the line he wound up owning over half of the water and power in the country— mainly renewable energy like wind turbines and solar panels, but he dabbled in other areas as well.

Getting into the details of how exactly one man came to own that much of the ‘free world’ would take a short seminar, and right now just wasn’t the time. That and unfortunately Kingsman didn’t know what the hell Blackwell was doing in London, but based off of what they did know thanks to the Statesman— it wasn’t lookin' good.

“Norman… here he is, just like you asked.”

“Ah, yes… Erick Thorne, right?” Norman called from his seat, leaning back leisurely as he locked his eyes on Eggsy’s. He held a small puppy in his hands, petting it softly between the ears.

“That’s right.” Eggsy replied smoothly with a nod, his gaze just as focused as Normans had been.

“Erick Thorne…” he repeated as he moved to his feet, placing the puppy in a woman lap before making his way to inspect Eggsy more closely. “You impressed Royce over here— and that my friend is hard to do. You impressed him so much that I just had to look into you myself…”

“Did you?” Eggsy asked raising a brow curiously with a smile, eyes still unwavering. "What'd you find out?"

"Heh... quite a lot actually. If I’m being completely honest with you, I’ve had my eye on you for awhile now Mr. Thorne, and I’ve got to say I’m quite impressed as well.”

Norman was standing much closer to Eggsy now, too close. He was tall and thin with a perfectly trimmed beard and wore a pair of black fitted jeans, with a dark blue blazer that fit him perfectly. His hair was black and salted yet lively, and in all manner of speaking he was fit and handsome. But there was something uneasy about him too… Something strange in his eyes that made Eggsy uncomfortable, and as he gaze into the face before him he could see the look he wore was a carefully constructed mask.

He’d seen that mask before… he saw it on Valentine. He saw it that night on Arthur. The look before him was bordering on homicidal and was somewhere between raging lunatic and architecture teacher and it was severely convincing.

But Eggsy smiled back as not to offend his host, pulling his arms behind his back; holding his wrist lightly in his other hand. After a brief nod, he began again trying for as neutral as possible. “Jus doin’ my job, sir.”

Norman smiled sinisterly wide, sliding a hand to Eggsy’s shoulder giving it an affectionate shake. He sent an awkward laugh towards Malcom before looking to Eggsy once more. “I’ve heard that before— many times actually. But I’m not looking for that kind of answer… None of these fucking idiots did what you did. They’re selfish fuckin’ pricks that don't care about anything but money.”

He paused momentarily pointing to Eggsy with a lazy finger before starting again, his tone only a fraction lighter. “You don't seem like that kinda guy to me… But if not money... then what is it that you fight for? Or better yet... what won't you fight for?"

Eggsy pressed his lips together lightly, still keeping his gaze strong and as in control as he could muster while he listen to Normans silvery words.

"Unless you are like these fucking idiots. Are you like them, Erick?”

Eggsy swallowed the lump away, staring into those large blue eyes; feeling them piercing like needles. “No, I ain’t.”

“Good… good.” he nodded up and down slowly as that sinister smile returned infill. “Because I have plans for you.”

The air around them was so thick you could cut it, and the sound of a door creeping open did so like a knife. Eggsy watched as a woman walked towards them… as you walked towards them holding a large tray of drinks.

The last thing he should be doing was getting lost in the color of your eyes, and the shape of your lips but here he was… staring at you like the fucking idiot he’d just claimed not to be. Really he should be focusing on the tense conversation that had just passed and the promise of many more… The promise of a job. On what the fuck Blackwell meant by all those fucking mind games he was playing?

Eggsy should be focusing on figuring out what to do next, not the way your hair shined when you walked— but shit you were a beautiful distraction… probably one of the prettiest things he’d seen and now he realized why Royce had warned him about you in the first place.

You stopped just in front of him, and when your eyes met the world nearly stopped around him. Norman had said something, but Eggsy didn’t hear it, he was just watching as you handed Royce a glass then turned towards him with eyes light and welcoming. But when you offered him one, he didn’t take it. For some reason he was frozen just... staring at you.

He didn’t really know how to explain it, but he felt like he’d met you before somewhere. Like you were a part of him already as mental as that sounded and when you spoke your voice was soft and sweet like honey. In those moments, for the first time in over a year… he felt a spark lighting low in his stomach.

“It’s safe… trust me.” You’d told him and it was funny because even though he didn’t know you at all— didn’t even know your fucking name… he did trust you.

For some reason, he did and for a split second he wondered if that trust would save his life, or end it…