rahul0803

[amethyst-noir]

(I’d like to apologise in advance for this prompt. It is actually heart-breaking and incredibly horrific. I am very, very sorry) (hurt and comfort) Post Infinity War - Tony hasn’t seen or heard from Stephen ever since he was brought back from the Soul Stone. He gets concerned and goes to the Sanctum to find him. But is instead met with the horrifying sight of Stephen sitting unconscious in the bathtub, bleeding out from the galaxy of scars and cuts on his arms.

This one really ran away from me. The beginning is angsty as hell and then it quickly descends into flirting! I know, know. But I just start these things and after a few sentences they start to write themselves. I hope you still like it and that you’re not too disappointed. So, yeah, Stephen hurts himself in this but he has reasons for it. Other than self-harm, I mean. Otherwise the mood-change would be too jarring. (Thankfully, I have zero experience with self-harm and would be the least qualified person to write about it since I really can’t comprehend the mindset behind it.) But my usual Tony takes care of Stephen hurt/comfort is here. I really loved writing this one.

The title is taken from GUNSHIP’s When You Grow Up, Your Heart dies.

(Orignally I had planned to post this after VIECC but it’s going up now to celebrate reaching 200 followers. Thank you all! 💞 Have a 🦋 to occupy your time until the next one. Or spam me with recs. Fic, art [I’m looking for a nice Stephen or Ironstrange icon], vids - everything goes. You know what I like by now. 😉 NSFW/NC-17 with bottom!Stephen would be especially appreciated.)

It’s Just A Bad Day (not a bad life)

“Doctor Strange? If you could call me back it would be appreciated.”

“Strange? Pick up your phone or I swear I'll…”

“Wizard? Call me, please.”

“Stephen? Just call, okay? I’m sorry about what I said.”

“Stephen, please… if you don’t call me back in the next hour I’m coming over to your museum and drag you out myself.”

*

Stephen put his arms underwater and watched his blood dilute in the water. It looked almost pretty. With a sigh he leaned back and closed his eyes. Just for another five minutes, he promised himself. Then he would get up and take care of the mess.

Instead of doing that he spelled to water to stay hot forever.

Later, he’d deal with it all later.

*

“Okay, Strange, that’s it. I can only handle being ignored for so long. You’ve got nobody but yourself to blame.” Tony had all his arguments ready. He knew how to react, whatever Strange might throw at him. He’d practiced, he’d run through every possible scenario. At least twice.

He was prepared to camp out on the steps of the Wizard’s house. He was prepared to blast the door down. He was prepared to shout until the man threw a fireball at him just to shut him up.

He wasn’t prepared to go up the stairs and had the doors open up for him by themselves.

“Wow,” he said softly as he slowly and carefully went into the house. “Stephen?” he called but the only thing he got back was silence. Not even an echo of his voice. Creepy. He looked at the big staircase which had been destroyed by Bruce’s return to earth. It had been repaired and looked as ancient as the rest of the house. “Someone home?” he tried again. Nothing.

“Hello? Strange? It’s nice that you let me in but good hosts also kind of show themselves, you know?” He turned around and tried to remember the little he’d seen of the place before the first attack. Where could he be? “Stephen?!” This time his voice was considerably louder but also higher. Unease was creeping up on him and his bad feeling intensified. Something wasn’t right.

He braved the first one of the steps and after not being rejected by it he took the next one. It was as if he was being led by a sixth sense or something.

On the first floor there was nothing but closed doors and a feeling of desolate loneliness. Tony went up to the next one.

He’d barely braved the last step when his was way blocked by something red. “Hey, Cloak-thing!” Tony tried to get around the levitating fabric but it managed to convey a shaking of its non-existent head and grabbed on to his left arm. “Okay, I get it. You have something to show to me, right? Lead on, Red.”

The rest of the voyage was swift since the Cloak more or less dragged Tony along at warp-speed. They went up yet another set of stairs - was this building really that tall? - before he almost smashed face-first into a solid wooden door.

“What the hell?”

The Cloak mimicked impatient foot-tapping and gestured at the door. The “open it up already” couldn’t have been clearer if it had been shouted. “Okay, okay, I’m doing it! Slow down, whatever’s behind that door…” The rest of his words died unspoken as he finally managed to get it open and saw what lay behind it. “Oh my God.”

It was the Cloak once again who gave him a push and brought his brain back online. He more or less stumbled across the room to the almost overflowing and steaming hot bathtub. The bathtub which contained one unconscious sorcerer and a lot of suspiciously red tainted water. The metallic tang in the air was the final clue that it wasn’t some fancy bubble-bath.

“Stephen?”, he called softly and reached out to feel for a pulse on his throat. It was probably only Stephen’s considerable height that had kept him from sliding down the bathtub and drowning himself. Tony had the dull feeling that he didn’t want to see what was under the steaming water. The blood had do come from somewhere but as long he didn’t see the damage he could pretend it wasn’t that bad. “Please wake up and scream at me for disturbing your bath time,” he begged. He found a pulse, regular and steady. Tony took a relieved breath and a lot of his tension vanished from one second to the next. He went down on his knees and surveyed the scene.

Stephen showed no signs of waking up. Time to investigate then. He swallowed and after a moment of hesitation put his hand into the warm - no, hot - water to try and find one of Stephen’s arms. He’d need the leverage to get him out of the tub. “I’m not trying to feel you up, promise,” he whispered as his searching fingers encountered Stephen’s thigh and pelvis. He could only feel solid muscle and bone there, and not an ounce of fat as he brushed Stephen’s belly. “You need to eat more, Stephen.” He finally found Stephen’s wrist and carefully encircled it with his fingers. He could feel scars and hard metal beneath the skin.

When he brought up Stephen’s arm from under the water he forgot everything about too little food or damaged hands. He stared at the bleeding wounds and only saw red. In every sense of the word. Frantically he braved the water again to bring up Stephen’s other arm. The same picture.

One cut after the other, all prettily arranged in something Tony assumed where runes. It would have almost looked nice, if it hadn’t been carved into Stephen’s skin. The cuts weren’t too deep but dangerous enough in combination with the hot water. A little bit deeper and it would probably already be too late.

“Oh, Stephen.” This time it was barely a sigh and Tony suddenly had to fight back tears. “What have you done to yourself?” The turned around to address the Cloak. “Red, do you have something like a first aid-kit in this Disneyland? And towels?” He’d looked around and seen nothing. “I want to get him dry and patched up. And show me where to put him.” He hesitated for a moment. “Please,” he added.

The thing vanished, presumably to bring the requested items. Good clothing was hard to find but this one was the best.

“And now to you, Mr. Sorcerer. I’m sorry but we have to forget about your dignity now.” He tapped the housing of the nanites and a partial armor formed around his upper body and his arms. But he left his hands free of it - he needed the strength to get Stephen out of the water but he wanted to touch him with his bare hands. “Please wake up and scream at me for handling you naked,” he begged. Not that he’d not dreamed about handling a naked Stephen Strange before but the circumstances had been much more pleasurable and Stephen had been a willing participant.

The moment he raised Stephen out of the water the Cloak was there to preserve Stephen’s modesty by draping a big towel over him. Tony nodded his thanks and followed it out of the bathroom. He needed to put Stephen down and dry him off before he could take care of the cuts. They had almost stopped bleeding, now that they were out of the water.

“You’re a lot of work, wizard,” he said as he carried Stephen over the threshold to his bedroom. “I’d have preferred to carry you under other circumstances,” he added as he carefully laid the still unconscious man down. A thought later the armor retracted back into its housing. Stephen had already been far too pale the last time Tony had seen him and the blood loss had done nothing for his complexion. “Should have known that it wouldn’t be easy with you.” Under normal conditions he would have been ecstatic to have Stephen pliantly following his instructions and letting himself be manhandled but having to do it like this? Was a dream turned into a nightmare. Typical. It get what I want but under the worst possible circumstances. Tony just held on for a moment to gather his wits. “Time to wake up now, Stephen.”

Still no reaction. Desperate to create some illusion of normality he kept up a steady stream of words, trying to get a reaction out of Stephen. “I’m not going to look for now but if you don’t wake up by the time I’m finished with your arms I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” He swapped out the wet towel for the blanket on the bed and kept his word about not looking. He once again made sure that Stephen’s pulse was still strong before concentrating on the mess Stephen had made out of his arms. “As if you weren’t marked enough before,” he murmured as he looked down at the assortment of old scars and new wounds. The bleeding had stopped and left behind a gruesome picture.

He was still trying to decide where to start when the Cloak came over with and suspiciously big first-aid kit. It dropped it down beside them adopted an challenging, waiting position. “Yes, yes, I’m starting!” Tony snapped after he’d inspected it. “Doctor, right,” he reminded himself. “It’s logical that you have a ton of stuff at hand a normal person wouldn’t even know how to use.” He looked down at the bloody mess of Stephen’s arms again. His hands were still shaking, something Tony had noticed before. After Thanos he had tried to find out a little bit more about his new acquaintance and it hadn’t taken him long to find Doctor Stephen Strange’s story. A sad tale and knowing the man behind the headlines made it only more so.

He started to clean the cuts on Stephen’s right arm. They were deliberate, no question about it, and shaky enough to make it clear that they were self-inflicted. But their shape spoke of more than the typical self-harm Tony had encountered before. “Are you a masochist or are you just really unlucky?” he asked quietly as he covered the open wounds with a light bandage. “Every time I see you, you’re hurt in one way or another.” He held on to Stephen’s wrist for a moment and tried in vain to still the shaking before switching over to the left one.

“The second, definitely. I don’t particularly like pain.” Stephen’s voice was weak but clear and his eyes still closed as he answered the question. Tony absolutely did not jump when he heard it, no. But it took him a moment before the finished his work. He held onto Stephen’s hand afterwards, his relief making him insecure and unsure what to do next.

“Good to know. Care to tell me why I found you bleeding out in your bath, then? This,” he gently stroked over the bandages, “doesn’t look like an accident to me. Welcome back, by the way.”

Stephen sighed but he also opened his eyes and looked at Tony. He was really here and not caught in some delirium. Good. “It is also not what it looks like.”

Tony smiled at him and if felt more awkward than any other smile he’d given the last forty or so years. He’d expected an angry barrage of questions and demands, followed by being thrown out of Stephen’s realm. Instead he got answers to his questions and Stephen looking at him with a softness he’d shown the last time on Titan. “That's… good to know. So what…?”

“Blood magic,�� Stephen said, as if that explained everything. “It's… complicated.” He closed his eyes, obviously exhausted. “I had to get out of somewhere and this was the only way.”

Tony had learned to hate those words. Especially when spoken by Stephen. “Stay with me,” he begged. “Hey, do you want something to drink? I don’t think you lost too much blood but you know…”

As if on cue the Cloak produced a bottle of water from somewhere and held it under Stephen’s nose until he forced his eyes open again. He glared for a moment before waving it away. “You could let me sit up before force-feeding me,” he grumbled. It took him a moment to get up but Tony just knew that any offer of help would be refused. The blanket slid down and revealed a rather nice-looking chest. Tony tried really hard not to look while Stephen drank but it proved to be impossible. “Like what you see?” Stephen asked sardonically and Tony, to his great horror, felt himself blush. Stephen, the bastard, did nothing to cover himself up.

Fuck it, he decided after a moment. “Yes.” He dragged his eyes up to Stephen’s face again. “Very much so. But I have to admit that I would prefer you without the blood and the bandages.”

Stephen shrugged. “Occupational hazard, I fear.” His looked away and studied his arms before carefully touching the bandages on his left arm. “Thanks for that. I’m not used to someone taking care of me like that. I would have done it myself, eventually.”

“When? After you’d drowned in a mix of bathwater and your own blood? And why is nobody here to help you?”

Stephen grimaced. “That may have been an error of judgement. I just wanted to get clean before taking care of the cuts.”

Translation: Blood loss, exhaustion and hot water. Tony knew the mixture only too well and had passed out in the shower from it himself. “That doesn’t answer my second question.”

Stephen hesitated for a moment. “ I live here alone.”

What?! It was like a punch to the stomach. Such an enormous house and such a dangerous life and Stephen was alone? Tony couldn’t - didn’t want to - believe it. What about Wong? “You lead an interesting life, Doctor Strange,” he finally said, unable to articulate his dismay and deciding to let it go for the moment. And just the moment.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Stephen smiled at him before raising his hands and a moment later he was wearing a casual shirt. It was long enough to hide not only his arms but also most of his hands. “Sorry to obstruct the view but it’s pretty cool in here.”

Tony hadn’t noticed but he mourned the knowledge that he had missed his chance to check out one naked sorcerer. “You could have raised the temperature instead.” Was he really flirting with Stephen?

“Then you would be overdressed. You might even have to give up one of your layers.”

And was Stephen really flirting back?

“That… could have been arranged.” Tony made sure to look Stephen dead in the eye to make his meaning crystal-clear. Very slowly and giving the other man all the time in the world to move away he reached out and laid his hand into the palm of Stephen’s right one. Beautiful hands, he thought. Stephen responded by carefully closing his fingers around Tony’s hand. He kept quiet, obviously waiting where this was going. His grip was surprisingly weak, even considering his injuries. Tony had seen what he could do with his hands despite his handicap after all. What an amazing man, he thought not for the first time.

Tony let his gaze wander down and was reminded about what he’d felt under the water when he’d touched Stephen’s waist. He took a moment to just look at Stephen. Too pale, yes, and quite too thin for Tony’s taste. Stephen looked even worse than he had on Titan, freshly rescued from torture. Now he looked sick, worn out and exhausted. It broke Tony’s heart. “But I want to take you out to dinner first,” he suddenly blurted out. Fuck subtlety and fuck this careful dancing around. They were on the same page, Tony just knew it. “After that I wouldn’t be averse to losing layers of clothing.” He wasn’t too keen on the idea of Stephen seeing the awful battlefield that was his chest and the rest of his body but he’d seen Stephen’s damage up close, it was only fair to show his own.

“That sounds nice.” Stephen was fading fast, the exhaustion finally catching up with him. His eyes were almost closed but he still held on. “When?” Stephen finally lost the battle. It was stupid but Tony wanted to gather him up in his arms and tell him to just rest, that he was here to protect him.

“As soon as possible.” Stephen needed someone to take care of him, to be with him in this huge mansion, and Tony could hardly wait to start doing so. “Tomorrow?” He got a small nod. “I’ll leave you to your rest.” He didn’t want to go but he knew that he had to. But when he tried to gently disentangle their hands Stephen refused to let him go.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the timely rescue but… why did you come here, Tony?” He forced his eyes open again. “All the flirting aside we barely know each other.” That was a blatant lie, at least from Stephen’s perspective. Tony knew that he had seen about 14 million timelines, there was no way that he didn’t get to know Tony in a ton of them. It was Tony who had a lot of catching up to do and he was looking forward to that. But he wanted an awake and coherent conversation partner, not a zombie. He was still searching for a version of I like the little bit I know of you and I think you’re hot so I want to really get to know you without death and destruction haunting us at every turn that didn’t make him sound like a creepy stalker.

“Later,” Tony promised. “Sleep first. We’ll talk about it on our date.”

“Date,” Stephen repeated, smiling. “I like the sound of that. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” Tony took his hand back with the greatest of care. “Call me when you’re awake, okay? You have my number.” He’d spammed Stephen with enough voice messages after all.

“Hmm.”

He took the vague sound as confirmation. Stephen had already slipped away into sleep and his Cloak was watching both of them with surprising patience. “You’ll watch over him, right?” Tony asked and was relieved when he got a nod back. “And promise me that you’ll get him to call me? I promise that I’ll be good to him.”

The Cloak just levitated there, probably judging him, before giving its assent.

“Good Cloak.” Tony couldn’t resist and was punished by a not quite harmless swat on his ass as he stood up. The retaliated with a much gentler one. “Hush now, we don’t want to wake him up, don’t we?” He hesitated for a moment before bending down to push a strand of hair away from Stephen’s face before settling on his carotid artery once again. “Sleep well, Stephen.” His touch lingered for a moment, just feeling the strong and regular pulse under his fingertips.

He could hardly wait to get his hands on Stephen for real. To hold him, touch him, to caress him, to take care of him. Kiss him. And, of course, to fuck him into the mattress. Although Tony suspected that he would have to wait a while before Stephen was well enough for that. It didn’t matter. He was in this for the long haul, he could wait.

He knows me, Tony reminded himself, not for the first time. He wouldn’t have responded like that if he didn’t like me back and didn’t see a chance for us.

Now they just had to get through their first date. So, no pressure. At all. Tony had always been good under pressure or so he’d been told. He could do this. They could.

💫

[darcyfirth]

Hartwin fic recs (1/?)

[Long post]

I went through the fics saved on my Kindle aka I read them at least thrice (not the recently bookmarked ones on ao3 or on my laptop) and here are what I found. The order is mainly sorted by authors’ names and texts in italics are my comments. I try not to spoil them for you guys and only include tags the authors use.

⭐ Underneath - Ataraxetta. E, 37k.

Of course, a refusal to apologise and a handjob on the floor of a fitting room does not reparations make.

Eggsy left the shop that night with a new chip on the shoulder of his new suit. Harry left the shop that night with the knowledge of what Eggsy looked like flushed and trembling with pleasure under his hands and the certainty that this single torturous taste of what he wanted most was worth living with the possibility that he would not get another.

⭐ A Marriage of Inconvenience - autoschediastic. E, 11k. Fake marriage.

“Caution in the field isn’t confined to simply an awareness of your surroundings,” Harry says, his tone stern but his breath soft and warm against the back of Eggsy’s hand. His gaze lifts, his eyes hooded as he peers at Eggsy over the rims of his glasses. “You’ve told a lie, Eggsy, and now that lie must be truth.”

(Or, that time Eggsy scored them a better table by saying it was his and Harry’s anniversary and quickly grew to regret it.)

⭐ the train is a metaphor - autoschediastic, Ponderosa . E, 6k.

“What sort of aggression is it then?” Eggsy asks, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

Harry knows even before he hears the response. Knows because even as Merlin is saying, “It appears to affect sexual responses. Activating latent desire and cranking up the subject’s sex drive whilst simultaneously increasing pheromone production,” Harry is thinking primarily of the distance between himself and Eggsy and how very few steps it would take to be within range to push the boy to the floor and pin him there.

⭐ How (not) to get a dad’s blessing - BrightsideIsMyMiddleName. NR, 36k, WIP.

“You know, you almost fooled me yesterday with the whole I want to watch the legacies speech,” Merlin says and Harry groans, because he knows things just went tits up. “Well, I suppose you were half telling the truth. You wanted to watch one certainlegacy, but it was more about his mouth, eyelashes and that thing on his eyebrow you can’t seem to stop staring at.”

Harry head snaps up at that. “Oh, shite.”

“Oh, yes,” the agent keeps going, completely enjoying this. “You forgot to turn off your feed. I saw the flirting. And Lee’s reaction. Good luck with that.”

⭐ Conditions of Release - Calico. E, 5k.

Eggsy pulled furtively at the ropes binding his arms and legs to the metal tracks, as if he’d forgotten the last five minutes already. God, though. Before he’d felt trapped, terrified; now it was more like he was… at Harry’s mercy.

⭐ What Men Want - calico. E, 12k. Lots of UST.

Eggsy goes data-mining.

I died multiple times reading this. 

⭐ Inopportune Moments series - calico, habernero. The whole series is a blessing and I’ll forever treasure the endless amount of UST in it.

⭐ Every Club’s Got a Secret Handshake - ChuckleVoodoos. NR, 4k.

A Kingsman needs steady hands, he tells Eggsy. I’ll resign quietly, he tells Merlin. Eggsy will make an admirable Galahad, he tells them both.

Or: In which Harry has a few minor issues following his head injury that no one but him considers issues.

Status after reading: Dehydrated from crying. 

⭐ Ätherwellen - coloursflyaway. M, 2k.

There are three-hundred and twenty-six members in Kingsman’s tech departments all over the world, and obviously they have lots of stories to share about their agents and what they do to drive them crazy.

The best way to do so is a super-secret WhatsApp group, and if it gets a challenge for all of them to finally get Harry and Eggsy together, it might just be Merlin’s fault.

⭐ Through Time - coloursflyaway. E, 162k.

A chronic of Harry’s and Eggsy’s love, following them from their first meeting to the last time they set eyes on each other, through shots in the head and falling in love and finally getting their shit together.

⭐ Dream In Red - Corvin. T, 11k. Soulmates AU.

Eggsy wasn’t raised to take the soulmate marks too seriously. He could fall in love without them.

⭐ Street Sweepers, Night Watchmen, Flame Keepers - Deepdarkwaters. E, 36k.

Harry survived V-Day - because of course he did - but not all the Kingsman agents were so lucky. With the world still going to shit and the worst staff shortage since the organisation began, Merlin calls a group of retired agents back to their posts to help out while he trains the new recruits.

Featuring snowball fights, banter, innuendo, handsome old men, lady scientists, secrets in walking sticks, Harry’s appalling crush, thumbnails of bigger pictures, a pastede on plot crammed in around all the flirting which is really just an excuse for me to write a silly sword fight, and an old bet from 1986 that’s still not been decided.

⭐ in this safe place here - Della19. E, 5k. Omegaverse.

“I am entirely capable,” Harry proclaims cuttingly to Merlin, puffed up like a prissy cat. And Merlin throws his arms skyward like he’s just begging for lightning to strike ‘im where he stands and asks, with scathing exasperation, “Of what, waddling up to someone and ruthlessly bumping into them?”

And Eggsy one hundred percent doesn’t snicker, and he’s got the bloody inner cheek to prove it, ‘cause Eggsy’s a fuckin’ gentleman.

Instead Eggsy takes in the sight of ‘is pregnant mate, huge as a fuckin’ planet and still the most bloody gorgeous man he’s ever seen. And then takes in ‘is face, and he wonders how much ice cream he’s gonna need to buy to get them all through the four weeks of bed rest Merlin just ordered.

And then Harry’s upper lip looks like it might fuckin’ quiver, and Eggsy contemplates just buyin’ stock in Ben and Jerry’s.

⭐ i blinked (and there you were) - Della19. M, 19k. Time travel AU.

The Weeping Angels, Eggsy reads on the stolen Torchwood intel. Aliens that pose as statues, and kill their victims by sending them back in time and feeding off their years not lived in the present. The politest psychopaths in the universe, a note reads, scrawled in what looks like a doctor’s chicken scratch on the edge of the page by someone who clearly had a perverse sense of humour. A one way trip, the report concludes; you get transported by the angels, and it’s the slow road back to the present for you.

Eggsy lays his head back on the wall, takes stock of his situation. He’s lost 30 years - three years more than his entire lifespan up ’til now - in the blink of an eye, and now he’s stuck here, in 1988. Three years before he’s even born. Arthur, the prick, is sure to be heading up the Kingsmen, and Merlin, if he’s even there would be…20, maybe. Fuck, so fucking young.

Shite, even Harry’d only be…

Alive, Eggsy thinks, and finds himself sitting down hard from where his knees can’t hold him. This is 1988, and Harry’s 23, and alive.

Suddenly, being stuck in 1988 doesn’t seem so bad.

⭐ your world tomorrow - DivineProjectZero. E, 9k.

This is turning into one hell of a fairytale.

(or, the one in which Eggsy never dreamed of the Cinderella life and ends up living it anyway.)

⭐ all the tables turn - DivineProjectZero. E, 23k.

Harry Hart has terrible taste in men.

So it comes as a bit of a surprise when Eggsy smiles at him and the predator inside Harry cocks its head in consideration.

⭐ the things we steal (it was only a kiss) - DivineProjectZero, 5k. HP AU.  

Eggsy whips around to find Harry Hart standing right behind him, holding a martini glass and just as gorgeous as Eggsy last saw him, three years and two months ago.

Thankfully, Eggsy is too busy staring in shock to actually say anything in response, because Harry then says, “Excuse my poor manners. Harry Hart. And you are?” And then extends his hand, which is how Eggsy remembers that he’s not supposed to be Eggsy Unwin right now; he’s actually undercover.

⭐ How not to attack Harry Hart - enjoy_acne. M, 31k.

Everybody wants to hurt Harry Hart. Harry’s really not sure what he’s done to garner such attention.

Where attacking even an amnesiac Harry proves near impossible. This is a romantic comedy with a dose of violence.

⭐ another head aches, another heart breaks - jonphaedrus. E, 44k.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that every good story has its Lazarus.

(or; the one where harry hart dies, and then lives again)

⭐ take me to church - jonphaedrus. M, 2k.  

He sees Westminster Abbey. Instead of a burst of civic and national pride, it feels like someone has just punched him in the chest. Harry stumbles, nearly falls over, and he can suddenly see bright Southern sunlight, he can smell the scent of blood all over him, his shoulder aches where someone’s just stabbed him, there are bullet bruises all over his back. There’s someone screaming in the distance and he can see flat, brown eyes facing him down the barrel of a silenced gun.

He winds up crouched, retching on the floor of a public loo, head between his knees, breathing high and fast through his teeth while Merlin’s voice, quiet and calm and grounding in his ear tells him just stay there, Arthur, someone’s coming, and someone comes.

⭐ A Different Place and Time - Ferrero13. T, 23k. Time travel, soulmates AU.  

Eggsy’s words are ‘What’s your name, young man?’, but Harry’s isn’t ‘Eggsy.’ So he keeps quiet, keeps it to himself, but when he finds himself face to face with a younger Harry Hart, Eggsy can’t help falling in love all over again.

Sometimes, the first words you say to your soulmate aren’t the first they hear from you.

⭐ On Hand - fideliant. E, 24k.

Or, Five Things A Gentleman Should Never Do Without

“In my defence,” Eggsy says, “It could have happened to anyone.”

⭐ Your Highness - Galahard. E, 40k. Modern Royal AU.

 “The international community is in chaos this morning in the wake of the deaths of many world leaders. The death of the president of the United States has been confirmed, along with the majority of his cabinet. Great Britain can count itself lucky that the Queen has been found and finally returned to her throne, but her heirs are another story. It appears that both princes and their own heirs are among the casualties of what is being referred to as the Valentine’s Day Massacre. Sources close to–”

It just so happens that there is another direct heir to the British throne out there, but he’s probably going to need a bit of polish.

⭐ We musn’t touch what isn’t ours - inusagi. E, 11k.

Harry Hart is a sociopath, yes, but he’s a sociopath who loves Eggsy.

or

5 times Harry showed his true colours and 1 time Eggsy really sees it.

⭐ Irish Car Bombs - kimposibl. M, 5k.

“It’s from the gentleman over there,” replies the waitress, pointing over her shoulder.

“Err….” Now, Eggsy knows he’s pissed. He learned his limits and exceeded them back in Cambridge, so being drunk off his arse is nothing new. He also knows that he can finish his pint and maybe get away with one more drink before he’s making a raucous or somehow getting involved in a fight, but he certainly can’t handle six more cocktails of Irish alcohol.

“Invite him over,” he tells her with an easy smile.

–

Or, the drunken one night stand Eggsy thought he’d never see again until he does and they have sex again.

⭐ Gentle - KingKiller. T, 4k.

Harry lives. He’s alive and he knows it.

But sometimes at night after waking up from dreams (nightmares) where Valentine wasn’t afraid of blood and Gazelle wasn’t so enamored with the lisping psychopath Harry wakes in the dark all too sure he’s dead.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

⭐ Hold me tight - KingKiller. NR, 14k.

The dynamics between he and Eggsy had changed. And Harry doesn’t even know how to describe “how” it had.

Continuation of “Gentle”. 

⭐ the parting glass - kirkaut. E, 48k.

The words shrivel and die between them.

Harry’s chest hitches on an indrawn breath. The contours of his face are cast dramatically in the fiery hues of the street at night, highlighting the wrinkle in his forehead and the soft slope of his chin and the silvery pink of his scar.

He’s beautiful, and Eggsy loves him.

“I miss you.” The confession falls. It lands heavily onto the pavement, cracking into the asphalt. “You’re alive, you’re right in fucking front of me, and I still miss you.”

⭐ Whenever you look up there I shall be. - LadyEmrys. E, 114k.

Watching the light spread in those heavy-lidded eyes, seeing the small twitch at the corner of his mouth - the only other physical sign he had strength enough to give - was more than enough to know for sure.

Eggsy was fucked.

Or: In a world rapidly descending into anarchy in the wake of V-Day, Kingsman - under the guidance of it’s new Arthur - must decide whether or not to abandon its hitherto undercover nature and save the the world from itself.

⭐ Ace of Spades - manic_intent. E, 44k.

“This is your next target,” Merlin said into Harry’s earpiece, as Harry leaned forward to look at his laptop screen.

It blacked out, for a moment, then a clip out of some interview began to play. The video was in black and white, crisply and tightly shot, its subject a young man shown seated from the waist up, against a pale gray background, grinning at the camera. He was probably in his mid twenties, dressed down in a black leather jacket over a pale t-shirt, loose over denim jeans, his hair long enough to feather slightly over his forehead, a hint of stubble over his chin. He was also, quite possibly, the most beautiful young man Harry had ever seen, and disturbingly… familiar, somehow.

As the young man laughed noiselessly at the camera, elegant serif type faded over the lower third of the screen: Gary Unwin, by Vanity Fair. Harry blinked, and studied the young man’s pretty face more closely, the crinkling around his eyes, the joyous curl to his mouth, the way he sat, relaxed yet alert, like a hunting hound, waiting to come to heel.

⭐ Kingmaker - manic_intent. E, 49k.

“Eggsy, I really don’t think-“ Merlin began, and stopped, because at that very moment, Eggsy walked right into a lamp post.

Across the street, at a sidewalk corner cafe, reading a paper, sandwich part-eaten on a plate, sleek, long legs crossed neatly under the table, was Harry Hart.

⭐ Strange Sights, Strange Wonders - manic_intent. E, 51k. Stardust AU.

In the glade where the star had fallen, the gloom of the gnarled old woods was deeper than night, save around the blackberry bush that had broken his fall: the grass and the battered leaves were now luminous, moon-touched. There was a long pause, broken by the sounds of twittering insects and the forest folk, then, there was a loudly groaned, “Fuck!”

The star rubbed a hand over his eyes, then flinched and held his hand up, spreading unfamiliar fingers up against the night sky. He turned his hand this way and that, curling and uncurling fingers, then he let out a softer, yet just as vehement “fuck!” and sat up, wincing.

⭐ Calm Like You - MartinShostakovich. E, 10k. Teacher/student AU.

Eggsy develops a heavy crush on his new Classical Literature Professor Harry Hart, and strives to reach the top of the class in order to impress him. Little did Eggsy know, Mr. Hart is fairly easy to impress.

⭐ As Fate Would Have it - midnightsurge. M, 45k. MI6!Eggsy AU.

 The young man smiled brightly again, turning to face him slightly as they walked outside. “M’name’s Eggsy. Eggsy Unwin.”

Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks. He knew that name.

Eggsy turned to face him expectantly once he’d realised the other was no longer walking next to him.

“I think you knew me dad, righ’?” 

⭐ the centre cannot hold - missbecky. E, 34k.

It’s a rainy Monday when Eggsy Unwin is killed in the line of duty. And it’s a rainy Tuesday when Harry Hart starts to feel that there is something very wrong with the world now. As one tragic event after another unfolds, he becomes convinced that Eggsy was never meant to die. Somehow he has to put things right again and find a way to get Eggsy back. No matter what the cost.

⭐ once upon a different lifetime - missbecky. M, 58k.

The night before the final test, Harry makes Eggsy a promise: once he is a Kingsman, they will talk about their future together. Then V-Day happens, and although Harry recovers, he doesn’t remember that last day he spent with Eggsy. Now Eggsy has to carry on like his heart isn’t breaking every time he looks at Harry and he thinks about what they might have had. He manages to do a good job of it, though, keeping things between them strictly professional.

So then, of course, Harry remembers.

⭐ One Night - Nickygp. E, 53k. Judge!Harry, rentboy!Eggsy.

Harry Hart, a Lord Justice, has his life turned upside down when he meets a young rentboy, named Eggsy, who charms his way into Harry’s heart. But can he act upon those feelings, or are their cirmustances too different to breach the gap?

⭐ Bluffing With An Empty Hand - nightwalker. E, 2k. Short and sweet.

The first time Harry Hart threatens to end Eggsy’s step-father, it’s a bluff.

The second time is going to be a promise.

⭐ No Charm Equal- potentiality_26. E, 29k. Cupid AU. The one that got me hooked on this author.

To say that Harry was too surprised to react at first would have been a grave understatement. He wasn’t literally invisible, because he did sometimes need to interact with mortals to do his job, he was just unnoticeable. People- the particular charge he had been assigned to most of all- were meant to see him and yet never actually process his presence. Unless he showed up in their houses- which a gentleman would never do, of course- they would ignore him and just get on with their lives. And yet here Eggsy was, closer than anyone had been to Harry since- well, since he was mortal, and that was long enough ago that Harry could hardly remember it- snarling, “Why are you following me?”

⭐ Getting It Right - potentiality_26. E, 8k. 5+1.

“Kiss me,” he murmured when he reached Harry, because while it wasn’t exactly vital to the mission that Eggsy convince this woman that they were in love, it would certainly make him feel better. Harry pressed his mouth to Eggsy’s as he passed him a glass of champagne, and ‘feeling better’ went out the window. The kiss was quick, sweet, marital. Eggsy didn’t know how Harry made it feel so practiced, but he did.

“I have an admirer,” Eggsy informed him, almost breathless with how much he wanted Harry to kiss him like that every day, how much he wanted Harry to have a reason to.

Five times Eggsy gets Harry to kiss him for the wrong reasons (and one time he gets it right).

⭐ Enough to Live On - potentiality_26. E, 19k.

Harry stated the obvious, something he should have seen that morning but hadn’t: “You shopped.”

“I been here quite a bit,” Eggsy explained, shrugging one shoulder. “And anyway it seemed… better. Food in the fridge, nothing gathering dust. Made it more like you’d be back any day now.” Eggsy swiped his knife over the bread with a little more aggression than was strictly necessary, but his voice was very even. “You said you’d come back and sort things. But you didn’t.”

Harry comes back a week after V-Day. He isn’t strictly alive, but that means less than he would have expected it to. 

⭐ An Ocular Condition  - ProdigalQueer. G, 3k.

Harry sees his adjustment as easy, but that’s only because he’s not really looking.

⭐ Only As Directed - rageprufrock. E, 12k.

“Arthur is a bad man,” Roxy had said.

“Fucking tell me about it,” Eggsy had muttered, and gone to put on the tarty trousers Harry had picked out for him like a fucking high-end pimp.

⭐ A Taste of Mallorca - Regency. M, 18k. Chef AU.

Harry is a celebrated food critic. Eggsy is a Youtube-famous food blogger. They meet at the grand opening of Mediterranean restaurant Mallorca when they’re forced to share a table. It’s a meal, and a night, neither will soon forget.

⭐ my saints fallen series  - neroh. From T to E.  I love this so much.

 ⭐ The Mate in Roommate - ronahn. E, 5k. Uni AU.

Out of all of the blokes occupying their flat, Harry was the one Eggsy saw the most, and yet they had only ever shared passing greetings. It was a growing source of disappointment for Eggsy; he was strangely drawn to Harry and his gorgeous brown hair and eyes.

⭐ The Spy who Loved Me (Or so they say) - ToriCeratops. E, 54k. Fake relationship AU, Pining.

In the wake of V-day the world’s economy hangs in a delicate balance, liable to crumble without warning. One man has the knowledge and the power necessary to send it tumbling down, so that only he remains on top.

The Kingsman have been tasked with stopping him before he can carry out his plan. In order to do so, Harry and Eggsy must act as lovers at an elite couple’s getaway to earn this man’s trust. Will they be able to carry out their mission as planned? Or will old wounds and buried emotions cause a havoc greater than anything they could have expected?

⭐ Kiss Me Now (before I can run) - persephoneggsy. M, 37k. Soulmates AU.

It wasn’t unusual, Eggsy told himself. There were plenty of people- just a little under half of the world’s population, really- that weren’t with their soulmates. Some of them just hadn’t met yet; others had died beforehand; and then there were the people in Eggsy’s situation. Sometimes people genuinely didn’t want their soulmates. Either they were in love with someone else, or they just didn’t like what they got stuck with, and Eggsy imagined the latter was very much the case with him and Harry. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have felt like for him, the world’s prime example of a posh bloke, to have his soulmate be some beaten-up kid. He would have rejected him too.

Or: soulmate AU where you know your soulmate from the moment you touch them, and when you do, their name gets written over your heart like a brand. But that’s not always a guarantee.

⭐ Tailor Shop - rougewinter. E, 13k. Like a Disney movie except really gay and for grown-ups.

“There’s no need for that now.” The older man said, both hands raised in a placating gesture that only had Eggsy narrowing his eyes in wariness.

“Who the hell are you, anyway?” Eggsy demanded, making sure to keep the poker up.

“My name is Harry Hart. And I’m the man, well, the mannequin that you just assembled.”

Or

The one where Harry is cursed to be a magical mannequin and can only be saved by the power of love.

⭐ that which lingers - bruises for tomorrow. M, 22k.

 Here is something that Gary “Eggsy” Unwin (aged 24 and ¾) never knew to expect from ghosts:

- Sometimes their absence hurts worse than their presence.

⭐ Married to the Job - trilliath. E, 18k. Mutual pining, misunderstanding.

 "Hm?“ Merlin asks, distracted when he looks up and squints at Eggsy’s face, then catches up and resumes working. “Oh. No. Zania Bonatti, Italian artist and activist. Also Harry’s wife.”

“You wot?” Eggsy blurts, eyes snapping back to him, then over to Roxy like he might’ve mis-heard.

But he hasn’t because Roxy’s face wrinkles minutely in sympathy that has Eggsy’s ears burning and he snaps his eyes away again in humiliation.

“Yes, Harry’s married. Did he never mention that to you?” Merlin pauses long enough to frown briefly, then he shrugs. “Well, on to more important matters…”

⭐ you make motion when you cry - unhappy_turtle. E, 4k. Pining.

“Wanna go on an ate with me?” Eggsy slurs, “I’ll give you the D later.”

“You are very inebriated, aren’t you?”

Eggsy nods, his head feeling too heavy.

⭐ These Hands (Had to Let It Go Free) - Vacilando. G, 12k.

He does not only recognize this man, he knows him. Harry knows the way he laughs and the way he would smile cheekily at Harry. He knows the way this man say his name, all rough cockney accent and confidence. Harry knows him better than Harry knows himself but none of that matter because Harry does not remember his name.

Nor is he sure if this man is real. 

⭐ Breathless (A Tale of Eggsy Unwin) - xxjinchuurikixx. E, 101k. Pining.

“Harry–"Eggsy breaks off, because, god, Harry’s here! He’s alive, breathing, beautiful, and he’s got Eggsy crushed in his arms and Eggsy can feel his mouth tingling from the roughness of his kiss.

Then Harry pulls back; more-so he shoves Eggsy away. He keeps him pinned to the wall, at arms length, and Eggsy is pleased to see Harry is panting, stray chocolate hairs fallen out of place. The action, however, makes his blood feel cold, and he stares up at Harry in confusion, expecting something more. But Harry makes no move to close the space between them again.

When Harry speaks, finally, it’s low and deadly and it fucking hurts.

“Forget that ever happened.”

⭐ Virtue Over Avarice- Yessydo. M, 13k. Tailor AU.

Eggsy crashes his stepfather’s car into the front window of a quaint but reputable tailor’s shop on Savile Row and, thanks to the charitable spirit of its mysterious owner, ends up working there to pay the damages.

⭐ Lots of Lost Time - Yessydo. E, 1k.

A year after his “death”, Harry is reunited with Eggsy, who has some strong feelings on the matter.

⭐ Lavagulin and Guinness - Snarfle. E, 163k. I waited eagerly for every update of this.

Plenty of people had looked down on Eggsy throughout his life. He had gotten fairly used to it. Didn’t mean it was fair, but he knew how these things worked. What really sucked was that the new Arthur was worse than the old one.

“Eggsy grimaced. He didn’t know how to explain to Harry – who seemed like he hadn’t been discriminated against a day in his life – that the new Arthur kept giving him what amounted to suicide missions, and that he was currently bleeding out in a warehouse because of the deliberately bad intel she had given him.”