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i haven’t really seen anyone on here talk about this so i thought i’d share cause this is absolutely upsetting and scary and we need to do something about it!!!!
Because there just isn’t enough content for the gorgeous Indiana Jones. Hope you enjoy this, and I’m sorry it’s been so long. I truly appreciate you all for sticking with me. If you have any prompts, I’m happy to take them for other characters as well <3 Enjoy!
TW: Threat, violence, excessive descriptions of Indiana’s muscles
“Dr Jones?” You poked your head around the door of your colleague’s classroom, smiling despite yourself when you saw him bent over his desk, fascinated by sone notebook that he shoved in his briefcase as soon as he saw you enter.
“Y/N! Good to see you!” He sat up straight and cleared some space on his desk, which you immediately perched on, smoothing down your dress and looking around the classroom, eyes settling on a bookcase filled to the brim with novels and textbooks, practically creaking under the weight.
“I just wanted to borrow a book - and say I’m glad to see you back,” Dr Jones left frequently for his archaeological digs, and you were pleasantly surprised whenever he returned.
He gestured towards the bookcase, smiling over his glasses as you walked towards it, running your finger down the spines. Your eyes locked on one old battered copy of a book, and you gently pulled it from the shelf.
You raised an eyebrow at the man sat opposite you.
“I didn’t take you for a fiction lover, Dr Jones,” You held up the book as he read the title.
“The Lost City of Paititi - that’s an interesting one. Old, too. The only copy of it in the world…” You watched his eyebrows furrow slightly as he jotted something down on his notepad.
“And I’m full of surprises, Y/N. Just because I teach about the history of the world doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy make-believe...”
You smiled, putting the book into your bag and heading for the door.
“For an archaeologist, you’re surprisingly fun,” You teased, and he rolled his eyes at you, shooing you from the room.
“You’re cruel, Y/N. Enjoy the book.”
You left his classroom and wandered to your car, where you pulled out the book and began to read. The yellowed pages were crisp in your hands; they were faded with age and covered in notes, from Dr Jones himself.
***
You saw Indiana the next day, as you wandered to your classroom to prepare for your first lecture of the day. The archaeologist rushed down the corridor, clutching his briefcase with a death grip.
“Christ!” You cried as the two of you collided, sending you sprawling to the ground in a pile of books and papers.
“Damnit! I’m sorry -” He looked up at you, suddenly realising who you were, “- Y/N!” He smiled, a charming grin that set your heart racing. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and helped you to gather your papers. The book he’d lend you had slid across the hall, landing at the bottom of the staircase. You picked it up, slipping it back into your bag and moving to help Indiana with his briefcase.
He was already bent over it, shoving items into it with a desperate vigour. You barely caught a glimpse of its contents (something small that shone in the bright overhead lights) before he snapped the case shut and got to his feet.
“Sorry, Dr Jones. I didn’t mean to -” He shook his head, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.
“Not your fault. I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He smiled at you and was gone. You noticed that he was walking faster than usual and that he had a slight limp.
More importantly, he was hobbling in the exact opposite direction to his classroom.
Narrowing your eyes, you let it slide, vowing to keep a close eye on your colleague.
***
Dr Jones must have secretly had an excellent taste in books. As an English professor, you loathed to pass up a book recommendation, although Indiana’s last few suggestions had appeared impossibly boring.
“Pottery in Archaeology? Sounds… riveting.” Indiana could tell you didn’t mean it, so you carefully placed the book back on his shelf. You were sat in his classroom with a steaming mug of coffee, listening to him murmur about artefacts as he sporadically passed you books.
“You sound so interested, Y/N. I hope I’m not boring you,” You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, turning to face him.
“Come on, Dr Jones. You must have something exciting to tell me. Discovered any civilisations lately?” he chuckled like he was in on a secret you were unaware of.
“Just ancient rocks for me. Life of an archaeologist.”
You were curious about the book he’d lent you; it appeared no one else in the English faculty had heard of it. You had scoured the campus library for any record of such a text, and none had appeared. There was nothing you could find, apart from an obscure telegram about an increasing underground interest in the gold hidden in the lost city.
Perhaps Indiana was telling the truth. Maybe it was one of a kind.
The pages were crisp and yellowed with age, with Indiana’s scribbles in the margins. Some of the words were obscured by splotches of water. The book was older than you could imagine, and the thought of it being the only one of its kind made your heart race with excitement.
***
A week passed before you saw Dr Jones again. This time, it was three o’clock in the morning and your landline was ringing.
Groggily, you stumbled out of bed and grabbed the phone, mumbling a hello.
“Y/N? Thank God,” Indiana’s voice was instantly recognisable even with the crackling of the phone line.
“Indy? What’s wrong?” He didn’t reply for a second, and you began to wonder if you were dreaming. Until a loud knock could be heard at your front door, and you jumped, suddenly alert.
“Just stay inside, okay? Don’t move, don’t answer the door.” A loud crash could be heard from outside.
You backed away into the corner of your living room, still holding the phone.
“WHat’s happening? Indy, who’s outside?” You could hear rustling over the phone like he was getting ready to leave.
“It’s okay, doll, I’m coming. They want the book, keep it safe -” The line cut out, and all you could hear was silence on the other end.
Outside your house, the intruders appeared to have gone quiet. You stood still, rooted to the spot, clutching the phone to your chest and breathing heavily.
Silence.
You moved backwards, creeping to the door to run back to your room. You gripped the phone tighter. Your heart pounded. Slow, slow, slow.
The window in front of you shattered and glass flew across the room. It sliced your face and you stumbled backwards. You let out a scream as a tall man stalked towards you, followed by a burly henchman and a woman with a gun. You struggled backwards, your silk pyjamas catching on the wooden floor. The man yanked you up and grabbed your throat, his breath hot on your skin.
“Where is it?! You gasped, black spots appearing in your vision. Just tell them! Your mind screamed, but something overpowered it - something that trusted Indiana Jones more than you had expected.
You spat at the man holding you, desperately trying to shake off his grasp.
With courage you didn’t know you had, you kicked him in the shins and when he stumbled backwards, you ran - down the hall, and into your room where you slammed the door and leant against it. Your heart pounded in your chest, veins flushed with adrenaline.
“Open up!” The woman yelled, her fists pummelling the door. You shook with fear; what could you even use as a weapon? There was nothing in the room apart from your lamp, and… the book!
You launched yourself across the room, snatching the weathered copy of Indiana’s book and showing it in a box under your bed. Just as you turned to face the door, the invaders shoved through and strode towards you.
Grasping your hair in one hand, the woman pulled you to your feet before throwing you down on the other side of the room.
“Jesus, Lena - don’t mess her up too bad. We still need the goods,” She rolled her eyes at her burly companion, but instead of attacking you again, she crouched beside you, a small knife in the palm of her hand.
“Tell us where the book is, and we’ll let you go. Maybe we’ll let your adventurer friend live too…” You furrowed your brow in confusion.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The men hissed and one reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small revolver. The woman must have heard them cock the pistol because she shook her head almost imperceptibly and moved her knife to your arm.
“Not yet. I want to make her talk.”
***
Indiana Jones looked incredibly out of place in your quiet suburban neighbourhood. He had his usual suit trousers on, paired with a white shirt and a battered fedora that cast a formidable shadow through the streets. He felt his bag with one hand and made a mental inventory of its contents - a handgun, a bullwhip and a flashlight.
Your house stood across from him, slightly isolated compared to the other homes in the suburban neighbourhood. From the outside, it appeared entirely normal, but the pile of shattered glass at the side told a different story.
He crept to the door, reaching into his bag for the spare key you’d given him weeks ago. Unlocking the door as stealthily as he could, he stepped into your hallway, following the quiet groans and murmured threats to your bedroom. Back pressed against the wall, he took a breath and began to orchestrate his plan.
---
“Still not talking, professor?” You shook your head, somehow staying lucid despite your swimming vision. The larger burly man moved towards you, gripping your chin between two fingers.
“Just give us that book - and we can let you go. Maybe you’ll even get some of the gold,” You ignored him, turning your face away but he didn’t let go; in fact, he raised his fist and slapped you across the face. You felt blood leak from your nose and you sprawled to the floor, letting out a defeated cry.
The woman shook her head, picking up her knife once again and holding it at your chest.
“Last chance. Give me the book. I swear to God, I will kill you -” You felt panic chill your blood. Last chance…
The knife moved closer to your chest at the silence. Breathe. Just tell them, you thought, but you couldn’t make yourself give up that stupid book or Indiana.
Closer now, you could feel it poke against your sternum when -
The knife was yanked away by something - a whip? Oh God, a whip. A man in a fedora stood in the door, reeling in his bullwhip and holding a pistol towards to gang.
“Get out,” He hissed, in a frightening twist on a very familiar voice. You looked up in shock and saw Dr Jones, his shirt ripped and his gun cocked, moving towards the attackers as they backed away.
“Indiana Jones…” You heard the woman murmur, and he advanced further towards them.
“Leave. You don't wanna know what happens when you don’t follow my orders,” The burly man looked smug as moved towards Indiana, who suddenly pulled the trigger and got a clean shot at the man’s leg. He howled, and his cronies grabbed his arms and began to pull him from the house.
Indiana bent down next to you, tucking the smoking shotgun into his bag along with the bullwhip. He reached out, almost as if to hold you, but quickly pulled back and instead cupped your cheek.
“Jesus, doll, are you okay? I’m so sorry -” You shook your head blearily, and gently leant your head against his shoulder.
“S’alright,” You muttered, and he chuckled, lightly petting your hair.
“C’mon, my cars outside. I’m taking you to my house.” He picked you up, and through the hazy fog about to take you under, you shook your head and grabbed his shoulder.
“The book!” You called out. He shot you a confused look and then his eyes widened. Moving with a practised ease, he reentered the bedroom swiftly, following your shaky hand as you pointed to the book’s hiding spot.
He pulled it out and placed it in your hands; the pair of you left the room as Indiana grabbed a dress from your closet and your briefcase.
“Thanks, Indy…” You murmured, feeling close to unconsciousness.
“It’s alright, doll. Thanks for keeping the book safe - I just wish you hadn’t had to get hurt,” You shook your head, nuzzling further into his chest.
Your eyes slipped shut and you finally let the darkness take you over, from the warm strength of Dr Jones’ arms.
-
When you woke up, you were curled up in an unfamiliar bed, a shadowy figure perched next to you in an armchair. Confused, you sat up slowly as your head began to pound.
“Where am I?” You slurred, and the figure reached out a hand to grasp yours.
“My house, Y/N. You’re safe here,” You nodded, beckoning him onto the bed. He sat beside you, flicking on a light despite the sunshine sneaking under the blinds. In his hands was the book you’d nearly died to protect.
“I’m glad the book’s safe,” Indiana shook his head, gently wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. If I’d known they’d come after you…” He trailed off and you placed a hand against his cheek.
Perhaps it was the adrenaline or the woozy state of your brain, but you felt another burst of courage. Turning to face Indy, you pressed your lips to his.
He was shocked for a moment, but a calloused hand grabbed your waist and kissed you hard.
When you pulled away, he leant his forehead against yours.
“You know, I need someone to come with me and track down those bastards,” You grinned against his lips.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Please help me buy groceries and keep my lights on this month!!
**PLEASE READ/SIGNAL BOOST**
Hey guys, I’m really so horribly sorry to have to remake yet another one of these dumb posts but, I’m still really struggling to get groceries and keeping my heating/lights on.
**This is a follow on from my original post which contains all my information and can be found here, which I am having to remake as my situation has changed and is getting incredibly difficult.**
Long story short, I’m currently on benefits and just before Christmas I had to attend a WCA (Work Capability Assessment) and my benefit was sanctioned and reassessed due to my mental illnesses. Due to the reassessment, the benefit payment that I’m due to receive tomorrow (Feb 28th) will be just under £200, which isn’t a lot to live on as I have to pay my rent, council tax, and some incredibly overdue bills and I will only have £7.38 left of my benefit after that. And that £7 is to somehow get me groceries for March and pay my electricity/gas meters. My gas meter is now on it’s emergency credit and will last a day or two if I don’t use my heating or hot water. *I can show evidence of this*
This has been a hell of a past few months for me and I really hate having to make these posts but until I can appeal my WCA (which can take 4 - 6 weeks) I really need help to keep my lights/heating on and buy groceries.
I also understand that everyone is struggling but even just £1/$1 makes such a difference. And if you don’t agree with this post or “e-begging” please don’t comment/send hate, just ignore this and be kind.
Hey guys, it’s snowing again thanks to Storm Emma, it’s -4°C here and absolutely freezing in my home, my gas has £1.98 left of emergency credit in it and won’t last very long. The weather is due to get worse with a red ‘severe weather’ warning issued and I only have £7 left of my U.C benefit to get me groceries for March, so I’m really getting desperate for help. If anyone has a few £’s/$’s that they’re able to spare, please consider helping out. 💖
I just wanted to say that I love your stories! And also ask: Are you danish? I read Missing and all the reference to Denmark and Kolding made me think that perhaps you were?
Aww thank you! I’m not Danish, no, but I did quite a bit of research so it was accurate!
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Hi! I know the requests are closed but I need to send this one in before I forget, I’m so sorry! Could you possibly write a one shot sometimes where the reader and Eggsy are dating and he’s broken up with Tilde after the blue rash thing. Reader knows that Eggsy dated a princess. He keeps calling reader “his princess” as a nickname and she’s insecure and one day has enough and screams at him for calling her that because she feels like she has to compete with Tilde? Angst but fluff at the end?
not a problem babe! thanks for the request - i loved writing it!
A/N: Hey pals! So it’s been a while... I’m sorry! I hope you like this fic! Requests are closed right now, but if you send one don’t worry - I’ll add it to the list <3 Also yeah it’s a Gavin & Stacey reference at the end. (YOU CAN’T STOP ME)
The first time it happened, you were stood at the counter with sleep clouding your eyes.
“Hey,” Murmured a voice from behind you, as a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist. You were stood at the kitchen counter, scrabbling around in the cupboards for some semblance of breakfast. You leant back against the figure, letting him press a kiss to your neck.
“Morning, Unwin,” You replied. Pouring some cereal into a bowl, you wriggled out of his hold and sat down at the table. Your boyfriend grabbed a mug of coffee and sat down opposite you.
“Y’alright, princess?” His murmur was husky with sleep. As the word slipped past his lips, you flinched imperceptibly. Before you, there was another princess in Eggsy Unwin’s life.
“Mm, I’m good. Are you doing anything today?” He furrowed his brows but shook his head, sipping the hot coffee and smiling at you.
“Nah, it’s Saturday. I’m all yours…” He wiggled his eyebrows and winked at you. You laughed, feeling your unease slipping away.
*
The second time it happened, he was on a mission.
You frantically typed on your keyboard, taking control of the mainframe and pointing all of the cameras at the agent currently fighting a security guard.
The guard fell to the ground unconscious and Eggsy ran on, pulling out his gun and firing down the hall.
“Anymore, Emrys?” He called into his earpiece as you focused on the security footage pouring in from the cameras surrounding your boyfriend.
“There’s one at your six -” Eggsy spun on his heel and fired three shots, the approaching guard falling down.
“Thanks, princess,” He glanced up at the security camera, knowing you and Merlin were watching and sent you a wink.
You grimaced at the pet name and Merlin noticed your reaction, wrinkling his brow in concern.
“Codenames, Galahad,” He huffed, voice dripping with exasperation.
*
The third time it happened, you got promoted.
“Emrys!” Called a familiar Scottish voice from behind you. You turned around and saw Merlin running across the grounds towards you. By your side, your boyfriend squeezed your hand and grinned at you.
“Sup, Merlin?” You asked as he pulled out his clipboard, scanning what you assumed was a list of things to do.
“I’ve got some important news for you, Emrys - you’ve been promoted!” He smiled at you, fatherly affection gleaming in his eyes. You looked up, startled.
“What?” You said as Eggsy wrapped an arm around your waist.
Merlin smiled, “You’re getting a promotion, Emrys. To my lead hacker - you’ll be coordinating missions and leading the tactical teams. If you’ll accept, that is?” You nodded frantically, words failing you. Smiling, Merlin walked on past the pair of you, patting your shoulder as he left.
“Holy shit…” You murmured, still recovering from the shock until Eggsy grabbed your arm and spun you around.
“Babe! That’s incredible!” He pulled you to his chest and you wrapped your arms around him, laughing out loud with pride.
“I did it!” You yelled, and your boyfriend laughed, lifting you up in his arms and twirling around in a circle.
He smiled widely, flashing his teeth and pressing a kiss to your head.
“Of course you did! I’m so proud of you, princess.”
There it was again. Two syllables and your heart stopped - the prideful grin almost slipped from your face, but you caught yourself just in time.
At the back of your mind, covered in cobwebs and tucked away in a dark place you never ventured, was the memory of Eggsy and his princess. Before the two of you were together - before he left Tilde, when he was moaning to you about impressing her parents - all of those memories stayed in the dark little corner. And every time he called you princess, all you could see was her face.
She was a real life fucking princess. What if that was still what he wanted?
*
The fourth time it happened, you couldn’t take it.
You were curled up on the sofa, the noise from the television blurring into the background, when Eggsy walked through the door, quietly dropping his key in the basket.
“Hey,” You called from your nest in the living room. He peeked around the door and visibly relaxed when he saw you. A smile crept across his face as you moved towards him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Alright, babe?” He murmured, voice strained and movements lethargic. You nodded, then turned him around and pushed him towards the stairs.
“Go and get changed - I’ll make a brew,” His smile was almost irresistible as you turned and wandered to the kitchen.
“Thanks, princess,” You heard him call out a thank you - with that nickname spliced onto the end. Your hands shook as you poured water into the mugs, adding milk and sugar and carrying them to the living room. Eggsy bounded down the stairs, JB at his heels - the pair were partners in crime, you thought.
He sat down on the sofa, taking a gulp of tea and smiling, his body relaxing into the cushions. He stretched out an arm and beckoned you to curl up next to him; you sat in a chair instead, gripping your mug so hard that your knuckles turned white.
“Y/N? Y’alright?” You nodded, sipping your drink and smiling at him. He didn’t have to find out, you could deal with it: if you didn’t, then maybe he’d find a different princess, with a crown and a kingdom and a sexy Swedish accent.
“Princess? You sure you’re alright?”
SMash.
The fragile, bone china cup fell to the ground, the handle pulled off by your clenched fist. Shards of pottery sliced your palm, but you didn't look up.
“Fuck! Babe?” Eggsy was on his knees in front of you in an instant, pulling the remains of the cup out of your hand and dabbing at the blood with a spare tissue.
You refused to meet his eyes as he looked up at you, concern written across his face.
“Princess?” A small whimper slipped past your lips, and he placed a hand on your cheek, forcing you to look at him.
“Please - don’t,” You said, your voice a broken whisper.
“Don’t what, Y/N?” You shuddered, and he stroked his thumb on your cheek soothingly.
“Call me that. Princess,” Eggsy furrowed his brow but quickly rectified it, holding your face in both his hands and kissing your forehead.
“Okay, babe, I won’t say it - can I ask why?” You let out a groan, and he pulled you close so that your head was buried in the crook of his neck.
“Every time you say it - I think about Tilde, how you dated a real life fucking princess with a crown and how I can’t be that! I won’t ever be anything close to her!” Your voice had reached a shrill cry, breaking at the end as you glanced at Eggsy shamefully.
“Baby…” He murmured, stroking your hair soothingly.
“I didn’t want to tell you - I didn’t want you to realise you’d made a mistake.”
He looked up then, startled, and shook his head.
“I’ve made a fuckin’ lot of mistakes, Y/N, but you aren’t one of ‘em. I swear, I don’t care that you’re not a princess, that you’re not Tilde - you’re Y/N! And that’s why I’m so embarrassingly in love with you,” You finally met his eyes, as tears slipped down your face.
“I’m sorry, Eggsy. I’m being daft -” He shook his head, putting a finger on your lips.
“It ain’t daft if it makes you sad, luv. But you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you, okay?” You fisted his shirt in your hands then, pulling him in for a searing kiss. His mouth met yours and you smiled, even with the salty taste of tears.
“I love you too,” You whispered, pulling away to rest your forehead against his, “Thanks for being so understanding.”
“Babe, it’s my job. You ain’t gotta worry about me falling for some foreign princess,” He squeezed your hand, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
Gently moving you to the sofa, Eggsy pulled you close and you leant your head on his shoulder.
“Love you,” You murmured, the steady beat of his heart helping you to finally relax.
He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Guess I need a new nickname for ya’... sugar tits?”
When your elbow hit his ribs, his moan was overshadowed by laughter.
A/N: Hey pals! Sorry, I’ve been away for so long - mock exams are getting crazy! I should be writing more soon, and I hope you enjoy this one! It’s my longest one yet - sorry it's taken so long!
ALSO - if you're not following @flippingeggsy then what are you doing?
Warnings: kidnapping, swearing, violence, angst (it’s a jolly one...)
The gun in Eggsy’s hands shook imperceptibly next to the man’s head.
Blood trickled from a wound on his temple, trailing down his cheek and running over his lips. Eggsy didn’t seem to notice; he pressed the barrel harder into the man’s face.
“Where is she?” He hissed. A crackle sounded through his earpiece and he flinched.
“I don’t know - I swear - I don’t know!” Eggsy’s smirk was almost frightening, his eyes brimming with anger and desperation.
“Wrong answer, bruv,” His voice was barely a murmur. A tense silence settled over the room.
“Eggsy! Stop -” Cried a female voice down his earpiece. Roxy. “You can’t kill him! Eggsy, please!” The man curled into himself, moving away from the agent.
“Roxy, please - I need to know,” The line went silent. Nothing
Eggsy turned to face the man, crumpled on the ground, and pressed his foot against his neck.
“You ready to talk?” He shook his head. Footsteps could be heard, pounding towards the tiny cell.
Freezing in position, Eggsy hardened his face to a glare. Removing his foot from the man’s neck, he crouched next to him and grasped his collar, pulling him to eye level.
“Where is she, you fuck?” The man radiated tension and fear but shrugged in Eggsy’s hold.
“I don’t know. My boss took her - she’s probably dead -” Eggsy pulled his fist back, shaking with white-hot anger.
As his fist knocked out the man, he felt a sharp pain, like a bee sting, in his neck.
The world went dark. Good fucking riddance.
***
“Merlin…” Distance voices crept into Eggsy’s consciousness, familiar but barely there.
“He could have killed him, Lancelot. It’s been a year, and we’ve found sod all. I don’t know where to look,” He heard Roxy’s sigh, and could vaguely feel someone holding his hand.
“He’s desperate, Merlin. We have to keep trying.” Eggsy felt a hand brush against his cheek. The touch was gentle and familiar; he moved a little, a monumental effort to press his face further into Roxy’s palm.
“Eggsy?” He blinked his eyes open, sleep making his lids heavy. Roxy, Harry and Merlin sat around the bed, and he realised he was in the hospital. Harry patted his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly.
“Hey…” He murmured, avoiding eye contact when Merlin stared down at him.
“Good to see you awake, Galahad,” Roxy gripped his hand, as Merlin placed a clipboard on Eggsy’s lap.
The clipboard reacted when Merlin pressed his hand to it, the screen lighting up and showing a video. It was the man Eggsy had attacked.
“If you won’t talk to Galahad, you can talk to me. Tell us what you know.” The man was strapped to a chair, nose bleeding and eyes crazed. Harry stood in front of him, leaning against a wall with a look of dismissal on his face.
“Fuck you,” He hissed, spitting on the floor at Harry’s feet.
Tutting, Harry placed a photo on the table in front of him.
“This girl,” He said, voice sombre, “Was kidnapped some time ago. We know your organisation was involved. Tell me how, and we’ll let you go,” The man just glared at him.
Harry pulled a small knife from his pocket and twirled it through his fingers.
Still in his seat, the man flinched away, but Harry moved closer.
“Are you ready to talk, Mr Hesketh?”
Fucking Charlie. Harry stood in front of him and let the knife fall on the table.
“It’s now or never, Charlie. Tell me where she is, or I’ll kill you.”
Charlie’s eyes turned dark and fearful. If there was one person he knew not to underestimate, it was Harry Hart.
“Fine. They took her somewhere in Denmark, I think. They were going to use her to get to Galahad… But she made trouble.”
Harry raised an eyebrow, but his shaking hands were easy to see.
“And then?”
Charlie wouldn't meet Harry’s eyes, “They got rid of her. She tried to escape, one too many times, and they killed her.”
The video cut out. Eggsy leant his head back onto the pillows, feeling drained.
She was gone. They killed her. They fucking killed her.
“Eggs…” Murmured Roxy, but he shook his head and faced away.
“I just wanna go home. Please?”
The three agents nodded, all appearing shellshocked. Merlin called up a cab to take Eggsy back home - to the last place he ever saw you.
***
Eggsy had no idea how long the journey to his house was. His eyes watered as he stared out of the window, only seeing blurred lights and people passing by. It felt like hours - the minutes dragged on and Eggsy felt nothing.
Since your disappearance, he’d worked non stop to get you home. He researched, spied, followed up on leads, barely ate and slept if it wasn’t necessary to keep him working. Whenever Roxy tried to suggest that he took a break, he brushed it off. When Merlin informed his that he’d used every available Kingsman resource, Eggsy pushed harder.
But when Charlie said you were dead? He was crushed.
The reality hit him like a train; all along, he’d been convinced that he could find you, sitting in a warehouse somewhere looking ruffled and annoyed and desperate for a coffee. You were never supposed to be caught up in Kingsman business. Never supposed to get hurt.
Not once had he let himself doubt that you would come home.
He trudged into the house, noticing JB at his feet, picking up the little dog and nuzzling his fur. Setting out some food for him, and a few treats, he tried to keep moving, but the grief coated his limbs like ice. Slumping down onto the sofa, he curled into himself, pulling out his phone and seeing an old picture of the two of you. His fingers curled around the band of his signet ring, where a stone emblazoned with the Kingsman logo should reside. Eyes squeezed shut, he remembered your face when he’d gifted it to you on a necklace. Pure, unadulterated love. Fuck.
Eggsy Unwin’s sobs shook the house to its foundations.
***
It was six months later, when Eggsy sat in a meeting with Harry, Merlin and Percival, that Roy burst unceremoniously through the door, slamming her laptop down on the table and breathing heavily.
“I’m sorry! But Eggsy, you have to see this. I tried tracking Y/N’s phone like we did last time, and nothing came up,” Eggsy looked at her, confused.
She shook her head at him, letting her hair fall into her eyes.
“No, that’s not it - look, right there. I was looking at some old tech and our old trackers - they were in our glasses, right? But sometimes we put them in our weapons too. Like grenades, or shoes, or signet rings-” Eggsy jumped, yanking the ring off his finger and throwing it to Roxy. She caught it and pointed at the screen.
“Look! There’s a signal, somewhere in Kolding! From an old signet ring, like the one you gave-”
Eggsy was sprinting to the armoury before Roxy could finish speaking. Merlin shrugged and jumped up to follow.
“Percival - we’ll continue this later. Very sorry for the disruption,” Said Harry, following the trio out of the door.
***
Kolding was just as Eggsy had expected - cold, snowy and looking like a Christmas card.
Swathed in protective, insulated clothing, he made his way across the fields, following Merlin’s directions through his earpiece. In the distance, he could make out a small building.
“There!” Merlin cried, and Eggsy turned his pace into a run, stumbling on his shaking limbs like a baby deer learning to walk. The shack was tiny, rundown, and made entirely of stone. Pulling his gun out, he pressed his back into the wall, barely hearing Merlin over his pounding heartbeat.
Pushing the door open, he rushed in. His eyes darted across the shack frantically - stone walls, cracked concrete floor, a single chair leaning against the back wall.
“No,” He whispered, breath turning to fog in front of his smarting eyes. “Fuck!” Crying out, he turned and faced the wall, smashing it with his fist until he drew blood.
Under the chair was a signet ring - small, battered and belonging to you.
“Merlin…” He whispered as the sound of the aeroplane grew louder, making him flinch.
When he boarded the plane, he pressed his face against the window and closed his eyes.
***
“Morning, Galahad,” Merlin said, patting Eggsy on the shoulder and dropping a mission dossier on the table in front of him. Eggsy smiled tiredly, pulling the paper towards him. Printed on the front were a location and a name, which Eggsy typed into his glasses and scanned through the results.
His phone buzzed in his pocket - a text from his mum, thanking him for looking after Daisy the night before.
“No worries xx” he replied; the house was far too quiet nowadays, and Daisy was a welcome break from the silence.
“You look tired,” Roxy noted as she placed her things on the table and took a seat beside Eggsy.
“Thanks, Rox,” He snarked, rolling his eyes at her as she shoved his shoulder.
(He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he wasn’t tired - he was exhausted).
“You know what I mean. Ready for the mission today?” He nodded at her, smiling and ignoring the jumping feeling in his chest. It had been a year since his encounter with Charlie, but every time they went on a mission, he almost convinced himself that you would be there. Twelve months after losing you and he still couldn’t quite quell the hope that you would appear.
Roxy left the room and Eggsy followed suit, making his way to the helicopter and slipping into the armoury along the way. He grabbed a gun from the shelf next to him, a lighter shaped hand grenade and slipped a signet ring onto his finger.
“Eggsy!” Called Roxy, exasperation creeping into her voice. Dashing out of the room, he rushed up the steps and slumped down next to her in his seat. Merlin raised his eyebrows, but Eggsy grinned back at him. The rush of a mission always made him feel alive; adrenaline pumped through his veins and made his heart pound. He was sharp, awake and alert.
Roxy tucked her legs up on the chair, swivelling to look at Eggsy.
“You’ve perked up,” She noted, pulling out a pack of cards and passing half to Eggsy. He took them and dealt a few out, ready to pass the time in their usual style.
“What can I say? I ain’t missing out on a mission like this,” Roxy nodded, looking a little concerned. He was used to that expression on her - she’d been very protective of him since you had disappeared.
“Landing in five minutes, agents,” Called Merlin from the cockpit.
Eggsy settled down into his seat, squeezing Roxy’s hand.
Thank you, he seemed to say.
***
The mission was over in a hail of bullets, with Eggsy pressed against a wall, gun in hand and heart beating like a horse on a race track.
Roxy had run off to find the computers and Eggsy could hear the sound of her breathing, distant and faint in his earpiece. He rounded the corner, gun held out as he glanced down the corridor but saw no more attackers. Just before he turned to to head to the evacuation point, he heard Roxy gasp through his earpiece.
“Lancelot?” He said, but there was no response. “Lancelot?” A knot of anxiety formed in his chest as his lungs filled with cement. Not again, he thought. I can’t lose anyone else.
“Galahad…” Roxy’s shaking voice slipped into his ear. At first, he didn’t acknowledge it, but when his brain caught up, he felt his legs moving down Roxy’s path.
“You alright?” He murmured and heard an affirmative noise from his friend.
“I’m okay, but Galahad - hurry, please,” He ran faster, feet pounding against the concrete until he rounded a corner and saw Roxy’s shadow in the doorway.
“Roxy -” He called out as he entered the room - and promptly dropped his gun as his legs gave out.
Crouched in the corner of the tiny cell was Roxy, holding the hand of a small, frightened figure leaning against a wall.
And it was you.
Eggsy felt his heart in his throat and his eyes looked you up and down, drinking in every inch of your skin.
“What?” He murmured, voice hoarse. Your head rose and you locked eyes with him, yours surrounded by dark circles and bruises, his shining with tears. Neither of you moved, staring at each other until you opened your mouth.
“Eggsy…” He stumbled forwards as Roxy moved out of the way, and he slumped onto his knees before you. Tentatively he reached out taking your cold, shaking hand in his and squeezing as gently as possible. You looked at him and saw the way his jaw clenched to suppress his sobs.
He could barely speak as he stuttered out a question, “How are you here? I thought -” You shook your head and your muscles ached at the movement.
“I didn’t think you were gonna come,” You whispered, and Eggsy let his tears fall. He moved forwards, monitoring your reactions and trying to keep you comfortable.
He was shocked when you launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck and burrowing your face into his shoulder. Clinging to you, he pulled you closer and pressed kisses into your hair between sobs.
“I love you,” He whispered, “I‘m so sorry.” You shook your head and pulled back slightly, pressing your forehead against his as tears streaked through the grime on your skin.
“How long’s it been?” You whispered and watched him flinch away, his breaths coming in dogged pants.
“A year,” He whispered, “An’ it feels like it’s been a hundred and I fucking love you,” You rested a hand on his cheek, shaking like a leaf and running your thumb over his cheekbone.
“I didn’t - they said you weren’t - I thought they’d kill me, but they just moved me around, every few days,” He gripped you tightly and cringed when he felt the dried blood on your clothes.
Holding your waist, he furrowed his brow and stared into your eyes, “How long have you been here?” You closed your eyes, leaning against him.
“About a month. They said you - you stopped looking after a few months, but I left the signet ring-” He gasped and shook his head frantically.
“No, love, I never stopped! I found the ring but you were gone an’ I lost it, babe,” Burrowing your face into his neck, you kissed his shoulder and cried harder.
“- I was out of my mind without ya’, sweetheart.”
His strong arms encircled you tightly, holding your weakened frame close to his chest. When you moved your heart to look at him, he grabbed your face and kissed you hard. Your lips were chapped and cold, and your tears mingled with his as you kept kissing him.
He pulled you closer and pressed his lips to your head, before he pulled away and shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders and lifting you into his arms.
“Let’s go home, babe.” You curled into his arms and for the first time in a year, you felt safe.
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- It’s my birthday tomorrow so hopefully, I’ll see a gift-wrapped Eggsy Unwin!
- I saw The Gloden Circle - it was cool, I really enjoyed it! Was heartbroken at some scenes (If you know, you know...) and whilst I’m not as obsessed with it as the first one, I loved Taron in it.
- The fic I’m working on now is possibly my longest one so far? About 3/4 through and it’s 1372 words... :P
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