dickgrayson80sremixmp3:

thank you so much! i got super inspired writing this and the words just flowed, hope you enjoy it!

tagging: @havokangel   @alexsunmners   you guys write the best eggsy fics, i hope i live up to your standard :)

Something about you just rubs Eggsy up the wrong way.

He doesn’t know what it is. Normally he’s a fairly easy going kind of guy - friendly like. He’s never considered himself the type of person to hate people without reason. Live and let live, or something. That is, until he met you.

Maybe it’s how you keep beating him in every training exercise (he isn’t proud to admit it but his competitive streak usually gets the better of him). Or the way you’ve always got some lightning fast, witty retort to anything he says, leaving him reeling.

Or maybe it’s how you’re probably the prettiest, funniest, most intelligent girl he’s ever met, and he can’t get you to look at him for longer than it takes to manufacture some quip -

What?

No, he definitely doesn’t like you like that, does he? Is he some kind of masochist?  Does he actually enjoy the way you make his normally quick-witted self seem dull and slow in comparison?

No. He doesn’t. He finds you insufferably annoying and that’s that.

(Harry finds all this very amusing.)

Finally, of course, he’s had enough.

The two of you have just finished a rather intense hand to hand combat practice. You’re looking pretty pleased with yourself - and with good reason. You’d totally annihilated Eggsy.

He’d stepped into the room ready to take you down. He knew you were good at all the slippery spy stuff, but he’d hoped his physical advantage would play to his favour in a fight.

And then he’d stood close to you, seen the little smile that curved your lips and breathed in the scent of your perfume and everything had gone to shit.

He wants to argue, say he was distracted. But the idea of trying to explain just what had distracted him is too terrible to think about. Ugh. This is all your fault.

Everyone else had left the room (Roxy smirking as she went, for some mysterious reason) and the two of you were alone, packing up. And then he hears you mumbling some needling little remark about his abysmal performance and Eggsy just snaps.

He grabs hold of your shoulders and pushes you against the wall. Gently, he’d rather die than treat anyone the way Dean had treated his mum, but firmly enough that you got the message - he was done with the way you spoke to him.

Infuriatingly, you barely react to his sudden movement. You just look up at him, looking a little bored, as if you’d been expecting this all along, as if nothing he does can surprise you. You’ve got him all figured out and he hates it.

He wants to warn you off, make you stop treating him like some barely competent nobody. He’s about to open his mouth and say as much when his gaze inexplicably drops to your lips and now he can’t remember his own name, let alone the point he was trying to make.

He knows you’re watching him, he’s sure you’re aware of what he’s doing but he can’t stop. His lips part of their own accord and he feels like he’s drowning. The world could burn down around him now and he’s not even sure he’d notice.

There’s still some tiny part of him, somewhere in the back of his mind, screaming about how this is the worst idea he’s ever had, but even that is quelled when he closes his eyes and leans into you, his lips brushing yours almost imperceptibly before he takes all his courage and kisses you properly, his hands dropping to your waist, your hips. The warmth of your body against his feels like everything he’s ever wanted, like all he’ll ever want. Kissing you is addicting, and he’d happily let you drag him under.

He feels your hands against his shoulders, a twisting in his gut as he realises you’re about to push him off of you, to laugh at him, to rip his heart out and stamp on it. To his surprise, however, you pull him closer, your hands slipping up his shoulders to his neck, his jaw. He groans, low and needy, in the back of his throat as you press your body into his, every touch leaving trails of burning flame along his skin.

Finally, he feels you begin to pull back and he dredges up the presence of mind to move away from you, to open his eyes. His head still feels foggy, his lips slightly swollen, but there’s a lightness in his chest that wasn’t there before. You’d kissed him back, and now he feels like he could take on the world.

He looks down at you again, and even now you don’t look surprised. But the smile you give him is genuine and warm, and suddenly Eggsy finds he doesn’t even care.